Tuesday, 4 December 2012

With little sound

Life clings to me.

A beautiful lie
of all she has mastered.
Each belief corrupted
as it forms a seal
around this ruin.

And pulls tight.

on this parapet
she kept still
the quiet fight for life
until death came

Then fought him off
I was her prize not his.

And she is free
to do to me
what is her will.

And I am kept buttoned up
by invisible bonds
I have clung to.

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