20 LINES

Look, we are defeated again
We that were anarchy's children
Stand hand-tied before our times
Mastering new tunes in old rhymes

We escaped the mirrors in pain
A slice of reflection still remains
Yours in mine, mine in yours
All the afters of our before

So fond of the night, we stayed
Awake until it was too late
And when the Sun greeted the sky
Warm blankets nurtured our lies

When sleep departed we found
Just that listless, mundane sound
That crawls between two friends
And awkwardly finds an end

Now we must rest, I suppose
Our paradise has found a close
If heaven is full, give me hell
I just hope that you're doing well

-K.G.