The Expression

A work of Passion

Here we are, now
Just over the ledge
Holding our pledge in hand
Demanding diligently our freedom
To look back is heresy

They, the typical, reside unmoved
Cemented hearts unsoothed with souls of steel
Murder is among them
Sickness birthed unsung and killing

But not us, the few
We see through to action
Seized by Passion's hands
Nailed down no longer
We've found the sacred way
And who's to say the day will end?
Forsake this, friend, and see anew
All for you this was, and is, and is to come

So here we are
Just over the ledge
We know the truth
And we've fallen for it