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I look at your hand,
And it's not there.
I see your wrist,
Someone else is there.

I look at your hand,
And I wonder where.
So I look into a box,
It sits right there.

Made of diamond and gold,
Sitting in velvet green.
In the dark, to never again be seen.

A new life
You say you must have,
Without me in it,
Your Independence
you must have

So there our ring sits
of Dimond and gold,
in a box of velvet green
for on your finger
never again to be seen 

The minutes pass by,
The minutes that bleed
As I have cried.

Starting to realize its for ever more
Never will we be stronger than before.

Will I be happy at the end of the day?
Will this path support me along the way?

I scream to the god
to whom I never pray,
Turn this grey to sunshine,
let it stay. 

You don't love me anymore
show yourself to the door

I've tried to show you,
I want you more and more,
but, 
you don't love me anymore
So show yourself to the door

Independence comes at a cost
Will you regret all that you have lost?

So go ahead and keep your walls built high,
I'm tired of climbing
though I've tried to reach the sky

There is no smile
as I walk through the door,
How often do your eyes
cast themselves out or to the floor?

The harsh light of reality comes crashing down. 

My face, neither a smile or a frown,
It's just another day in this now lonly town.

You don't love me anymore,
So show yourself to the door. 

By Scott Sailer, AKA Beamer

REDEMPTION LOST
____________________

Slowly we built the cross,
The cross of our demise.
We built it,
Right before our very eyes.

Each grain of wood,
A part of our soul.
From the blood of our birth,
To the breath we can’t control.

With the length of each year,
The sins are layered.
Building, Building the weight we must bear.
Even as life moves forward,
Still, we take the dare.

The crossing timber,
unwittingly set in place.
We still continue,
Not seeing the pain being etched into place.

Now to late to see,
No redemption is to be had,
From our skin to our hearts,
Ripped layer by layer,
Like bark from a once beautiful tree.

The blood of our birth,
The breath we can’t control
The love leaches out
As we loose control.