Belief in something else

Look here, what is this? A soul Ragged, bloodied Someone put it through the washing machine But forgot to use “Delicates”

Life, however briefly, in a horror show Demons made real, given an almost casual solidity An assembly of everyday abominations Has its own way of staying lived

Your love never fails Even if sometimes Surely, oh surely, it feels like it “Eli, eli, lama sabachthani?”, indeed; And then one can't quite recall the rest

“You're OK” Still there But somehow lost beneath the waves

And what does he have to show for it all? The scars are all unseen There may be no lesson learned here Or even worse, there may be

Maybe he can't be truly upset with You Maybe it's not the done thing Maybe it's more a case that he let You down, than You him Maybe the limits of his love for You Are how he got into this mess in the first place But You know it all so well You know he wonders Did it have to be this way?