Apathy on a Sunday Morning

Across the ocean lies a second chance
Underneath a roof, above the broken mask
Tokens of remembrance scattered around
Consume what's left of a hapless mind

Listless hands search for something to break
As malice churns out of an endless void
A distended dignity comes slowly undone
The soul degrades while the sun burns

The Holy Father weeps for an abandoned heir
As on a peaceful Sunday spent in seclusion
Merely rise to make an empty statement
And flowers wilt when butterflies are killed

The bosom craves to feel real pain
Confused about forsaken love to numbness
Unchanged are the vows, only people
As make believe morphs to destiny

And here you shall stand till eternity or so
Waiting for the ship to come in...