The Lost.

A quaint little town
Far, Far away
Where apathy reigns
And night leaks across day.

Angels in cages
Labelled: “Sunny Suburbia”
Bleached by tragedy,
Drenched in forced euphoria.

Scraping pain
Off scarlet wrists,
The brave ones fight
With blades, not fists.

The silent war
Behind picket-fence
Rages on
Lost to irrelevance.

Soldiers muted
With straight-jacket pills,
Antidepressants
Numbing noiseless worlds.

Tearing into their demons
Tearing into themselves
The strongest among us
Battled, and fell.

A humble salute
To the courageous, who stood.
Who staved off the abyss
For as long as they could.