I Am the Unashamed Confession

I will cry,
When yesterday fails to flee the torment
These minds have wrought.
When the moments that we bought,
Cease to fulfill their impermanent obligations.
Though I will never have tears
As a simpering lullaby;
And I won't wish on burning,
As it ages itself away.

How cold your eyes,
When they withered into mine.
The warmth bled away as smoke into the sea,
When by chance your wandering glance,
Hit upon the unveiled me.

I am only the stark remainder;
The tendrils which apparently assumed
A personal expression.
I am the unashamed confession,
Left behind when the brazen wind's possession
Takes the precedent away.

I will cry,
When yesterday fails, and today is consumed by fury.
As disillusion reaches its eventual conclusion,
You fight against existence without the safety of confusion.
But you control nothing which was scattered,
And left to seed.
Yesterday is waiting -

For your sake, embrace what you fear in me.