Sought

The bottom of the barrel is where least fish lie
yet a good fisherman knows the difference that exists in-between
the distinguishing factor between hurt and survival
a good hunter with lesser arrows feeling his end,
retirement more painful that getting up at the wake of dawn.
has time ever been a friend to any of us?
does it even matter after the longest of days?
the lies friends tell themselves to pay for the loss of time
treasuring the laughter that is there between them all
as the sun sets it withers the smile of their faces, they are perplexed
the beauty life offered stripped from their lonely grasps that dissipated without warning
here their bodies lie, followed by a eulogy, a longer or shorter one yet all forgotten
the most precious of people are those who give in to the idea of oblivion
those who try to be immortal, miss the opportunity
an opportunity to escape the ridicule that exists
as greatness comes with illusion so does lack of it
to truly lie to yourself each morning takes guts
the balls of many where left on the field they displayed
as much as love comes with a bit of moments touched by fate
its the treasure we feel in the lack of such that binds us
the pain of living without would never amount to the lack of meaning
a lack of acknowledgement in the mist of the pain the heart accommodates
the sad nature that persists still shines to those who fought long and hard.