Torn (Part 3 – The Final Cut)

As we approach the sunset 

Of our final seasons the cutting continues 

As our neurons are pruned

Memories dissolved 

Names, places, identities forged

by a lifetime of tearing 

The sounds and sensations

Of soft surrender and hard decisions

Are sheared like so much unneeded hair 

By a grand design of DNA

And a deity we yearn to know–

The words and deeds 

Of our youth 

Set free from time and context, 

And we become a child yet again.

Then there is the final cut-

The plucking and pulling of threads 

Of the warp and weft 

Unraveling the fabric 

We have woven with 

With passion and pain

With first kisses 

And last calls 

With embraces too short

And departures too long 

With half-hearted protests

And missed milestones muted 

By indecision and indifference 

Tempered by the kiln of time 

By small victories 

And great expectations 

We hang by a thread –

An umbilical cord 

It is these–

These measures of life 

We cling to as we

Drift towards 

Our psychic collages of God

Redemption, just a cut away 

cut
The Final Cut, by Pink Floyd Source: genius.com

 


 

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