I utter a word of old wounds, fret not
They are not of a grudge, but of my cherishing
For they remind me of my vulnerability
In your gentle hands, that could breach ships
How your voice and sight melts my will
Like the hearth of the earth, mushing rocks
Burning away all that stands,
Only to let it begin anew, such ferocity, such flame
And I remember those days over and again
Never would an ounce of my thought wander
Into the halls of wicked curses
They could for most, yet they are beseeched by love
For you, but dear love, my love is
Like a falcon's egg, frozen in winter
Never to open, erupt wings, soar on the blues
I float on the good times, to forget my mortality
I use the old hurt, to remind me of it
No comments:
Post a Comment