striking distance

Many pity the hope that’s lost,
And often spend time to seek,
Scars are often worth the cost,
And forgiveness is not for the meek,

But to hear the words aloud,
Of love and tokens of forever,
A broken heart worn as a shroud,
When last labored breaths revert to never,

Moving on is the human way,
To spite love’s love with distance,
For in that single utterance “stay,”
One falters in resistance,

So in the moaning and torn breast,
Of mourning both death and dawn,
The sun may rise in the west,
When love’s impossible strength is drawn,