There may be a riot inside,
My heart might just be whimpering No,
The whistling notes of the fight
That are calling me, beckoning: Go.
The whisper that sung out before,
Once a cry; distant, faint, and obscure,
Now a bellowing deep throated roar,
For the first time no longer unsure.
You and I were a moment in time,
Held at length we descended our days,
We were only forgiven the crime
To repair what would later decay.
As we mentioned our trials ran deep,
With no such intent to unwind,
For the path led to mountains too steep,
And the love that we had fell behind.
There’s a warmth in my soul that’s been lost,
And a hole in my chest that’s been found,
I know now that this life has a cost,
And that hearts that are free can’t be bound.