A Hand

A plea for help, a cry of pain

Tears will flow and blood will stain

A small bruised hand, a sad longing glance

The two of you spin, in a deadly dance

The other one bows, but you turn away

A simple argument turned into a fray

A fray into battle, a battle into war

Soon you don't remember what you're fighting for

So as the hand reaches out, shaky and slow

You quickly clutch it and hold it and plan to never let it go

But time is your enemy, it awaited your fate

You realized when you grasped it, that you were far too late.