Thursday, June 18, 2015

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 .