A broken glass; broken man inside
His skin sagging from years of toil
A frown, due to life's difficult ride
Waiting blithely for the next tide.

A tide to wash away memories,
Another to drag him into the sea.
Where death awaits with open arms
Where depth hides its charms.

Today, the man is dying with hope
Waiting, patiently, for an absolution.
An absolution that is to never come
For the heart isn't yet quite ready.

Not quite ready to move on,
Not ready to forget that moment.
That moment of blood, of pain
Sticks today, an permanent stain.