Intuition
An inward arc
A mirror reflects the Sun, and
I'm blinded
Hatred is a hammer beating
Skin made of tears, drop by drop
Crumble. Wasteland
How many times must this hammer beat on my heart?
Will our love die
Or will we simply sigh
As we marvel how it remains
Wild
Feathers in the wind
Arterial flight
A new direction
And why not
The branches tremble
Dazzled by stars
Night
’Til they descend with hate and fury
Arrive at dawn, with snare and trap and sword
Struck. Knocked down
How many times must this hammer beat on my heart
Will our love die
Or will we wonder why
As it slowly fades away
