Romancing on the flesh and bones
of every living thing
every living thing now had scars
of what these men and women stole
Power was never meant to last in wooden stables and unstable armories
but just once it would be beautiful
to see the bones of a stallion
or the blade of a blade
be torn apart and used for evil
and death.
if we give into the impulse of destruction.
where does that leave us?
One day,
the horse and the blade
will gracefully outlast us
YOU ARE READING
III
PoetryPairs I just can't seem to separate in my mind. A trio of poetry that I still haven't really figured out yet...
