(ht to mark riddle)
when did i last see you?
how long ago that ache
when i recognised the broken and the lame
that we, you and i, are all the same?
when did i last see you
and truly know myself?
how did we grow apart while in this life
we walked so closely side by side?
when will i see you once more?
without the dread, or shame?
without the peace but with the blame
oh endless ache of absent friend
i miss your hands, your eyes, your voice
now silent in the noise of my life
oh i have been walking alone
a storm and blood upon these streets
but you and i, we are the same..
the broken spirit and the clay
the only one who can mend me
oh tender blood stained hands
come hold my life in yours again