Stropped…

when the dark
of the world
blunts my edge

her soul
is a wet stone
upon my heart

for a mind
shrouded in fear
learns to take a life

and a blade
starved of blood
soon forgets

I don’t know
how I learned
to ever love again

like sand
borne on wind
placating platitudes

to worm
into ear, eyes
and throat

to swallow
it down
with indifferenced regret

and listen
to the dragons
grow in your gut

creep safe
to that shadowy
hiding place

and watch
them feasting
upon ash

bold cry!
challenged charging!
to scare them off!

fear not
fetid flames
from their maw

a mind
dressed in cowardice
learns to steal a life

but a blade
starved of blood
soon forgets

 

 

About Eric

Writer/Plumber/Poet/Father/Gentleman/Romantic
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