Ode to Bleeding Knees

Ode to bleeding knees.
Annecim, I fell,
for the tales of men,
With nothing to tell,
Of heart or humanity,
Of the power of trust.
Of mythical heroes,
That long bit the dust.
So they sought consolation
And made-believe.
And in making
Came to deceive,
The loveless and weak,
With naught to invest
But their fullest faith
In the cruelest jests.
These happy endings
We have fine tuned,
Have cost us the capacity
For simple gratitude.
Emptiness becomes me,
My tides have turned.
I have loved in vain.
And I have learned,
From knees raw and bloody,
From a breast that's still bare,
That man invents such fancies,
Because he lives in despair.