Swords

There's the devil 

Sitting in his bed side manner ..... 

His grin catches the room 

Everything falls like sand slipping 

From an hour glasses throat - 

I turn to him 

He grins - 

We meet again - 

Tell me about the war 

As he tries to hold my hand 

I move past the shadow 

Into the light 

My blood violet 

Iris is an ocean 

I laugh 

As I continue on my path .