The world perched on a single edge-
Jagged in part.
Its hilt, just; its goal alleged-
To strike the heart.
One hand alone cannot lift;
Two are needed to be swift.
And yet, if one arm gives in;
The sword will come crashing.
Down and strong; this bastard sword
Will slice them both apart.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry, the Stars; and whatever Space lies between
PoetryPoetry from my teens. Rather edgy, slightly disjointed, questionably articulated.... Not unlike my life.
