The Essential Will Carrie

In this place so caught and cursed by the onset of decline,
In a country marked by loss across her cravings of desire,
Where every ragged step falters lonely on the ledge,
And words from blistered lips recant the wistfulness of fate.

The scars are daily present where the power left the land,
And the lights will only flicker at the shadow of your hand,
Now when winter spreads its rumour there’s no hiding from its claim,
Nor the stifling accusations unconditioned summer brings.

To a fragment of this country where more roamers scratch a living,
Cashing low and meagre profit from their fathers poor decisions,
Sleeping rough in junker motors on the backseats of despair,
Crowded camps of rusty cars, obsolete beyond repair.

Here in brief respite they live awhile away from ruin,
Beyond the blistered skin of progress long abandoned as illusion,
And at night they trade for stories and the last of old possessions,
Then yield every waking hour for their mothers’ lack of vision.

Since the changes set upon them with the viciousness of sorrow,
To these camps they now retreat until they’re dragged back to tomorrow,
Just a place to spend the darkness until the breaking of the day,
As they move from place to place seeking work along the way.

Will Carrie holds the keys around these worn and rusty quarters.
A solitary shadow since he lost his wife and daughter,
From the strays he makes enough to scrape a living from the floor,  
From the weariness of grief, excused of hopes for any more.

And if there ever was a time before he’d had to live this way,
Before the constant inundation, his only answer to the rain,
He’d awoken to a bloody sun to find himself divided,
A heart still pulling skyward before the flood had yet subsided.

Feeding anguish in its legion from a muted maze of mourning,
Will Carrie and his shadow linger quietly on the border,
From some past the faintest flickers cast a jaded optimism,
But their pale and waning hue is not enough to bring a difference.

The Reprisals took so many from the few who questioned why,
And after that they sought to silence any voice who would deny,
That outsiders giving orders were the only ones to blame,
For bringing to this country all their ignorance and pain.

The Reprisals judged his daughter, found her guilty of dissent,
Accusing many others, with the crimes they could invent,
To appease their growing anger and their sense of discontent,
As though the currency of wrath could ever truly be all spent.

How the people stormed, as they watched it slip away,
A way of life they‘d come to lose in their superstitious rage.
The Reprisals seemed an answer to a quickly shifting tide,
That swept away the certainties crude oil could once provide.

So tired of begging morsels from the edge of masters table,
They didn’t hesitate to turn when his house became unstable,
And many stories ended when they crossed out master’s words,
And soon enough replaced it all with something even worse.

And through the years of turmoil as his wife joined their daughter,
He’d dwelt lowly on the margins where there’s nothing left to fight for.
But midnight won’t allow reprieve from all the horror seen,
Nor dawn ever him forget the life that should have been.  

But for every orbit damaged there’s a new world to collide,
Like a lonely nomad planet out there waiting to decide,
When the void becomes too empty, so it has to re-align,
And to Will there came a body who he never could deny.

Through a dawn so deep and troubled Dru came desperate to his door,
As the pale and struggling morning slowly crystalized her form,
Though she kept no threads that tied her to a memory or a place,
Bounded dimly, dark horizon, he could recognise her face.
 
Or was it flickers of the faith that the day may yet revive?
Or for him a chance redemption, a fleeting flicker behind her eyes?
As if she was an antidote to all that’s gone before,
A wary emissary to hold the door for something more.

But for Dru there was no feeling besides uncertainty and pain
She stood numbly with the morning that caressed her with its rain
A Lucifer ascending whom the changing times brought down.
Hekate awoken, stalked and tracked on muddy land.

There was nowhere else to go when she found Will at the door,
There they teetered on the border as the rain began to pour,
That she saw him as a presage to her days changed evermore,
Gave shelter from the burden of the sudden life she bore.

So there and then she entered and he could only stand and stare,
Seldom had he had the sense of what now he felt aware,
He’d been voiceless when no certainties had come to test his doubts,
But with an open door he welcomed one he hoped could cast them out.

Lent again a day that might annul the life that should have been,
The embers of a passion once as ash now found their heat,
As she quietly took a seat he searched her face for something other,
and recognised anew the flame becoming quick to smoulder.
 
But for every hopeful union there’s a risk of broken chances,
There were swiftly moving searchers crossing fields and fast advancing,
Scratching traces from the stories weary strangers trade for favours,
Desperate now to purge Dru’s name and anyone who might save her.
 
Will only saw a satyrs eyes as she crouched upon the floor,
As she slowly tried to say that name whilst he shut the crooked door.
‘D’, faced with all the days he’d lost, all ‘R’ lives are so impelled,
With tiny breath and three small letters ‘Dru’ she finally spelled.  

And with that word the paling day had lent their first encounter,
And as Dru’s form eclipsed his doubts, Will knew he’d not renounce her.
And he waited for the sun to cross and bow down to the moon,
She surrendered to the passing day as she dare not leave the room.

And soon the searchers came, trailing threadbare superstition,
Through murky skies they’d watched for signs with squinted eyed suspicion.
They washed up on the evening shore spilling fear on rusty quarters
And onto all who’d found this day relentless on their weary shoulder.

Air electric and rutted sod they came unruly at his door,
And in that moment he understood what might just be restored,
In this room caught, enchanted pushing credence to the brink,  
The desolation chains that Will had forged now finally found a link.

But their fists convinced Will’s trembling door to rattle in its frame,
And indignant curses shouted out, rained down upon Dru’s name.
Pointing quickly to the buckled floor and a twisted gap beneath her,
Will hissed at Dru to move below before turning back to answer.

Through that gap then Dru manoeuvred, slender slid the splintered boards,
Leaving Will to shrill and menacing threats that few could long ignore.
For a second time the day had offered strangers to perturb him,
His lonely days long undisturbed, now riven worlds colliding.

Two standing on his step awaiting chance to cause some pain,
Both of them intimidating in bloody red and grey.
With squinted eye and crooked tooth one spat her accusation:
‘The foreigner who came to you will come without objection’.

As he felt his purpose sink in sticky hatred and disgust,
Will carried all the burden of a captivated trust,
Determined not to lose the lessons inflicted from his loss,
To defy these bitter searchers whom seldom few had crossed.

‘I’m the one who holds the keys for these worn and rusty quarters
And I’ve been solitary here since I lost my wife and daughter,
There are only those that shelter until the breaking of the day,
And of the one you’ve come here hunting, I’ve got nothing I can say’.

They never said a word as they pushed him to the dirt,
And gave another living insult to his ecosphere of hurt.
‘Do you think we don’t remember how your daughter left you here?
Yet there you stand beside deceit, pretending shrill that you’re sincere.’

Then upon his dusky room they forced themselves for satisfaction,
To satiate their sullied thirst for endless retribution.
For Dru they knew, was something true, a splinter from the whole,
If she went free, was allowed to be, they would never keep control.

But his room so long abandoned to pregnant disillusion,
Bore for them no fugitive or frame to lay their hands on.
That this lowly place, this dismal den, could deny them vindication;
Just cold water in the face of self-entitled indignation.

More spiky than the needles falling from the spruce’s bough
Were the prickly accusations that they levelled at Will now.
‘In what bounded world you teeter squirming thinly for a view,
Yet the lesson we’re repeating somehow never reaches you’.

‘You’ve brushed the piercing bristles of the hand that harvests all,
Still we fix its grip and push with it until our way’s restored,
She has come to you to scratch false truths like flesh on bramble thorn,
But she will never be allowed to spread division as before’.

Without another word, they pushed him once more to the ground,
Their sneering boots and angry strides broadcasting rough and loud.
But if seeds of intimidation were what they wished to share,
Will’s nightly twilight torment had put him beyond all care.

In a home caught and cursed by the constant crave of grief,
And a man marked by loss trying now to find belief.
He watched in placid silence as the searchers went away,
And even in despair he knew could never her betray.

Will turned around and went inside to pull the splintered board,
And though his burned and blackened soul had left his feelings charred and hurt,
He ached for true connection that had so long been denied,
A severance so severe that his heart beat cauterized.

Now falling to the hiding place where Dru had disappeared,
Yet finding not a single trace in the humming atmosphere,
Though he’d never yet found solace where the fickle spirits stir,
He’d split the roots of hopelessness for a simple touch from her.

He went out to a cooling dusk with wrecks beyond repair,
And all at once he understood whilst standing awestruck there,
As Dru lay floating arms outstretched, a flickering fallen star
dark thorny trees danced in the breeze that seemed to flow from her.

And now the trembling earth joined in to offer affirmation,
To prove that all his shame and loss were the base metals of redemption,
If desires were ersatz diamonds that lies wore as disguise
Could Dru undo, perhaps transmute all elements of demise?

But he caught himself before his awe wrapped a rope around his throat,
In case it tried to stop him talking sense against this reckless hope,
What use were mystic cravings in a world so disenchanted?
Where stunted fruits were harvested from every seed yet planted.

The Reprisals stripped the wonder from this country overrun,
Then snipped the threads of every well-intentioned stitch yet to be spun.
And who could see the veil when the shroud is ripped and torn?
When the mantle of oppression cloaked a future yet unborn.

Yet here was Dru’s blunt presence arching slowly out of time,
Like an honest question posed to someone jaded from the lies.
And perhaps her radiance could only be so loved against a darkness pushed aside,
In that shade, Will sensed her charms and the secrets of her kind.

But now her eerie calls left scant shelter from her deluge,
And upon the shore of mystery left him stranded without refuge,
And he knew that once again there would be splinters to the bone,
As each and every world demands its scarlet tide of foam.

Within the spinning furore she called him, warned him to remain,
And he knew he’d have to disavow all that comfort found in pain,
Ignited from the darkness where he saw her now descend
To crush into the earth despair, his overbearing friend.

She’d been disentangled from a country where seldom few have ventured,
Pulled back into this world to damp a wound that wept and festered,
Yet neither knew the reasons for their orbits to collide,
For if a man falls under Eris it’s not the former who decides.

Then once again she spoke again as she stood amongst the wreckage,
Of a hundred ruined junkers, rusting hundreds left rejected,
Then her words were soothing invocations scattering sprites of evergreen,
That might overthrow this withered age of malevolence, severance, grief.

‘I woke up with the rising sun to find myself divided,
In a body shaped of water and dirt with a heart still pulling skyward.
Then the wet air warned of enemies that would never welcome me,
And I felt the hunter sense its prey and I looked for sanctuary’.

‘When the morning whispered urgency, I stumbled to your clearing,
And it was only when I saw your face that I knew what I was hearing,
Now every passing moment seems to thrill me into shivers,  
They’re the hitching breaths within the chest of a child plunged in the river.’

In approaching dark with longing but few words to reply,
Will wasn’t used to looking the future straight within the eye.
What piercing danger unannounced was still to sting his brow?
Or whip him with intense desire so bitterly disavowed?

‘I’ve watched the wretched and the weary scrape the earth to find a sign,
To trace a magick consequence to things that happen all the time
But it was only when I saw your face that I recognised my perdition,
And here you’ve found me at the feet of listless separation’.
 
As crooked trees stretched with the breeze convulsing over the meadow,
Dru moved again, came close to him, as his hushed words mixed with shadows,
‘If nature lends us chaos as a lens to find our guiding star.
There might for me, be some reprieve if you tell me what, or who, you are’.

‘When I watched you stand against those pushing cruelly at the door,
I knew I’d found connection but of course of you I cannot be sure.
But no burden or coercion causes me to here remain,
Yet I hesitate to stay so close if it causes you further pains?’

‘I only know my presence was entangled with your daughter,
And I sensed myself dragged lowly down when their fraying nooses caught her,
But If I ever had an older world where this body was once forbidden,
For now it seems I dream dark dreams whilst to you I’m freely given…’

Will teetered on the border as the darkness closed around them,
Wondering what strange attractor could have bought his daughters daemon,
Living sick in grit vibration with only scars to mark his time,
He found himself believing Dru for his cravings unrealised.

‘I’ve seen scratched sigils come to life and statues walk the land,
But stood with weary unconcern the vengeful could never understand.
I’ve watched every circle spinning tight into a holding cell,
As each and every tender thought was forged to plate my hell’.

‘So every day I curse the morning that reminds me as I waken,
That the coming day is empty since all kindness was forsaken,
and though the past is shrill with pity and leering with disdain,
l feel a calming peacefulness in the truth of what you say.’

‘But now darkness gives its cloak to those who wait and linger on,
And though we disbelieve the schemes of all its faithless, servile sons,
This night has sharpened threats with senses deaf to ordinary pleas.
The Reprisals judge us only in those shades they that can see”.

‘But the utter dark will give us shelter from your dank pursuers,
And beneath this listing roof we can shut the door to your accusers,
Perhaps the night will trade its stories for a moment of redemption,
Before the coming day compels us with its undeclared intention’.

He had glimpsed the secret world again, where despair forgot to look,
It had scratched an unexpected sentence on the last page of his book.
He saw his troubled circumstance was self-inflicted from within;
The mucky ghosts which set the scene and performance to begin.

Then with a shudder closed the door to watchers waiting in the trees
Gently swaying as Dru’s body lay back slowly ill at ease.
And Will waited for the moon to cross and give in to the sun,      
And then he dared to let himself believe in better days to come.

The next dawn pale and potent, searchers storming through the dirt,
Twenty hands of callous fingers blindly clawing at the earth.
For Dru they came, to dowse her flame, a spark lit from the whole,
If they let her free, allowed her to be, they would never have control.

But darkness bears its children to the spiral with cold fire,
to boil the cauldron of the senses and stir the chaos of desire.
So, order by coercion finds its hands soon slapped aside,
And those who came to cast a shadow would not sunrise survive.

As they crashed amid the junkers, stillness shrinking from their shouts,
The Reprisals’ ugly violence poised and ready to lash out.
But there was only smoke to welcome, pushing back the rising sun,
Swiftly trapped in swirling billows, every harsh step overcome.

Slipping sickly from the Elder, leaking tendrils sinking slowly,
Creeping quickly from the Hawthorn, an eerie spectre choking coldly,
Gripping laboured breath and lunging fist with poisonous embrace,
Seeping sullen with the hedgerow, all invaders laid to waste.

Will stood beside the drifting haze, return to power draws near,
The shanty view across the yard, his deeper nature there revealed.
There Dru found him still, beside himself, adrift amongst the rout,
But empty skulls, now unconcerned could offer no account.

It was he who’d caused the sylphs to hold the burden of the smoke,
Wild spewing from a rage surprising those who’s needless spite provoked
His fury and his sorrow for the crucible he’d endured,
Now he understood the rough country of spirit at last restored.

Then she pulled him by the shoulder along a steep and thorny path,
The morbid clasp of solitude, slipping slowly from his back,
And the forest reassured them of the sanctuary inside,
Deep towards its fertile heart, to the peace the hollow Oak provides.

Slipping swift under the Alder, no longer who he used to be,
Tearing quickly over Blackthorn, ripping robes of certainty,
Deep among forgotten trees where futures always hide,
Where love and dissolution are the splintered barbs to guide.

All at once the hollow Oak, imposing shadow on the path,
Where Will had once found a stay within its fecund, restive clasp.
Its calloused bark and musty dark, a hideaway from their accusers,
Underneath its budding leaves dismissing winters cold illusion.

And here he looked for answers, not the empty husks of words,
Those wretched sounds were shapes to drown the curses he’d incurred.
Taking Dru into its heart to hide his longing from her eyes,
His simple act of growing fear, no longer serving its disguise.

‘In bleak currents dragged along since I lost my wife and daughter
I felt my strength begin to fade, a sick survivor treading water,
And I struggled with that futile flow that surged to drag me down,
Where murky rifts and muddy pools urge all faith to sink and drown…’

‘But what’s the point of waiting around for the tide to collapse the bluff?
Of waiting on retreating banks for that river to swallow you up?
On what day will you decide that the time’s already come?
You lie now thirsty on the arid ground of a life already done.’

‘The Reprisals took our daughter, when we moved out to the border,
Where they came out with their creeds and their knives sharpened towards her,
And when she’d gone I watched the fires dwindle in Nileen’s affection,
And then her cinders turned to ashes, all her love to dissolution’.

‘She breathed the dangerous illusion of the disconnected other,
And found the reaching arms of Death, Her final overbearing lover,
So, what of times rehearsed inertia trapping limbs and damping lust?
It first caresses us with velvet and then becomes the stranglers’ glove…’

‘When sometimes sentences confine, their limits push us into answers,
But words make you estranged and blind to truths still pushing past you.
Your daughters’ only lost to the house where you’re confined,
But our horizon sets unchanged and the future will decide.’

‘Because it’s not beside her child that your Nileen has found release,
Your daughter’s numb on country roads, blindly sinking to the sea.
And I knew about the failing world when I chose to find her side,
With Chana’s strength, I ripped the web and came to be her guide’.

‘Then I fell to find you swift before you wasted one more day,
Because in you I somehow recognise the seasons turn again,
You both yearned your passions burned, your cravings tore upon the veil,
Towards this ground, you bought me down in that troubled dawn so pale.’

‘Dru, what are you saying? Are you saying she’s alive?
Have you come here to remind me of the meaning I can’t find?  
The Reprisals stole my Chana unwinding swiftly to the end,
So do you come as trickster now, in the rags of a helpless friend?

‘And am I beyond repair, too far from any hope,
Since death and lies have stripped my life so far beyond harsh jokes?
When everything that mattered here’s been sold off, shamed or slain,
To face your words, what strength to leave or reason to remain?’

‘Will, only rats beneath the circus stalls now stand at centre stage,
And their mob takes fright with beady eyes as they see the curtains raised.
All those that judged forgot their skin is stretched on common bone,
They thought they’d sever quick a throat that spoke for truth alone.’

‘And you deal with them in dirt and choke their dust out on the road,
Whilst you’re rooted with the earth, they still pull you far from home.
Reprisals claim the minute but the power’s with this hour,
As if the bitterest of seeds could sour the beauty of the flower.

‘So, what I came to say were only words to set you free,
and when I found you at the door I knew that you were just like me.
Chana’s numb within the lanes and unaware she’s needed,
And chaos holds the bloody fields where these warnings go unheeded’.

‘All your anger, invocations, all your grief an open door,
But we came to overthrow the withered age so bitterly endured.
And I think you know the choice you made when you came into this world,
Just beneath the level of awareness where the depths begin to swirl’.

‘Dru, what are you saying, do our natures here reveal?
A solar flare and daemon beam spun on the living wheel?  
Chana sleeps caught and cursed, breathing shallow in the lie,
Only exiled by reprisals when we thought they’d took her life?

‘And did she choose brutality, resistance dimmed with fading strength?
Whilst all my given chances, I freely swapped for naïve discontent.
What miracle or remedy can pause our driven slide?
What current from the deep dark earth, what signal from the sky?

‘She was lost, your paths were crossed and crowded with the dispossessed,
Then you called me down, the earth curved round and I sighed a damp and startled breath.
But you should know your dampened spectre hides an aim yet claimed,
We’re the seeds that need the storms to flourish, not the gentle summer rain’.

‘I couldn’t ride the fortune streams that drag with human grit vibration,
In this world so caught and cursed, it brought me down to seek connection.
And our clearing in the forest is where the coming storms collide,
You and I will face the clouds, reveal the sun that always shines.’

And then she leapt and quickly went where earth and sky collide,
Will trailed her from that hiding place and followed fast behind.
The forest no escape from all the horror that he’d seen,
But yielding to the scarlet tide could claim a life that should have been.  

The back woods give up dirt, where the carrion finds its crow,
Where trees allow a midday track to cast its passing shadow.
And here they found recoiling shuffles, pulled brawn at the barrow,
Reprisals pierce retreating hordes, their fury sharp as arrows.

And Chana stumbled unaware within the fleeing pulse of limbs,
With only darting glances where sharp alertness once had been.
Will faltered at the roadside, losing ground to understanding,
As though falling joints and painful truths might move to overwhelm him.

But Dru was all at once upon her, kissing Chana’s furrowed brow.
She’d found her place within the whirlwind, Chana’s daemon knew somehow,
That only love and raging water cut us currents to transform,
When out of depth and drifting cold, still never far from shore.

Will’s blood surging, vengeance urging pushing blood towards the scarlet tide
Against the mob whose blades swung long, with rusty swipes to sever, divide.
Scratching sinew from the backs of strangers and so in pain they might deter,
So desperate now to purge Dru’s name and anyone who might save her.

Chana’s arm in Dru’s palm as she led her to the trampled ferns,
To a father, unfurling fast, just waiting for his child’s return.
And when he held her once again, her shape seemed cut by blatant lines,
A cheap illusion of his choosing, retreating now before his eyes.

Then fragile re-enchantment settled lightly on Will’s brow
And every desperate hour fell away to power now.
Seldom had a withered hand found resolutions brace,
And here for Chana, Will would stand, no more use for fear or hate.

And Chana recognised him as a world she could belong,
As sounds held in a rhythm dressed with words complete the song,
The exile to the meadow, the mother’s loss, her sacrifice,
All dissonance and longing, each mystery exacts its price.    

Then Reprisals overwhelmed them, mindless foaming spreading stain,  
Still more of them intimidating in fresh bloody red and grey,
With empty eye and crooked smile one spat a cruel instruction,
‘All death to those who wait, who curse the winds with superstition’.
.
And even as they flashed their glare so smug with hunters’ prey,
They forgot the elemental Dru and what she had to say.
Now branches hissed the fury that the trees just couldn’t scream,
As all as one they turned their stare as Dru began to speak.

‘You’re all lost within the old world, chasing vapours in retreat,
With only servile barbs of vengeance holding brief and bitter peace,
What worms within your heads are chewing chances of acceptance,
Writhing blindly in the dirt, forgetting all that you depend on’.  

‘All your anger, invocations, all the grief that closed the door,
We came to douse malicious rage the broken country yet endures,
You’ve tried so hard to kill the age, to mute its dogged sentence,  
But duration of an idea’s life is no measure of its intention’.

‘With every given moment you could have moved beyond despair,
To alter all your hurt and give away what you could share,
And creation and forgiveness lie beneath your restless surface,
And you lie when you deny that you were sent here for their purpose’.

A sudden squeal of creaking timber, and then a ring of falling trees,
And in that clearing so divided, the mob, four fleers and the three.
And what was left of mercy fell for every eye to see,
Her transition to the fringes confined to circles of belief.

They moved on Dru and cut her quick, unheeded words found whispering winds,
Her blood bled thick without defeat as Dru fell aside to let them in.
Then somehow her submission stirred the fearful and the weak,
And each heart in the circle hardened fast against retreat.

Ferocious in resolve, what clamour lent Dru’s sacrifice?
Her killers’ plunge to cowardice turned the others to their knives.
The four now had them out, reprisal theirs to turn around,
Defending Will and Chana, they then moved to bring them down.

That dismal, bounded clearing left only six sincere together,
Whilst beyond that splintered deadfall the vindictive grip became untethered.
What’s use for all the struggle if connections are disabled?
As if the world were sickly fiction not shared, enchanted fables.

How the weary groaned as they watched Dru disappear,
A way of life they‘d come to bear could never last a truth so clear,
The Reprisals had no answer to Dru’s revealing of their lie,
Her flouting of their certainties, her turning of the tide.

Now Chana spoke in whispers as she pulled from Will’s embrace,
But he felt her words as mystic as the shadows left her face,
An inflicted world was falling, Dru pulling down around her
The snarling, stained Reprisals denied the trophy they’d churned blood for.

‘I was lost, the paths were crossed and crowded with the dispossessed,
When Dru appeared, I had no fear but I breathed in pain a startled breath.
What ignorance and vengeance dimmed the borders of the worlds?
But time has coiled its binding turns to lend what we deserve.

‘My father gave me thread to weave the warp of my intentions,
The words my mother said invoked the lure of the horizon.
And then I was a victim to Reprisals’ bitter blame,
I should have cast aside their poisons, turned my back against their games’.

‘You saw them hurting Dru because she shapes a newer pattern
She knew what they would do, now we recall what we’d forgotten,
The mystery of reason, the cool persuasion of the stars,
We share the conversation, but our voice is one small part.’

Chana stepped beyond the ring of trees to stand among the rest,
And those that lingered looked at Will for the unseen chaos he possessed
Might they perhaps claim inner space kept starved and hungry hollow?
Recite the words Dru’s passing scored on a map they now could follow?

Will whispered disillusion and Dru’s coming to subvert,
Why now she’d never rest beneath a rougher shroud of fibrous earth.
The golden set of twilights’ gift brought comfort to her ending,
And if he never did another thing he’d cherish her descending.  

‘The essential will of wildness and the challenge of the heart,
We submit ourselves to turmoil that it might render us apart.
What pain you gained from looking back, refusing to let go,
She and I just followed here when the blood began to flow’.

Will’s sentence then had reached an end, Chana stood alone.
What reason now to walk the trails or shiver far from home?
No sorrow for his season passed when springtime brings renewal,
Just the essential will to carry on when the crucible proved cruel.

Never then vendetta from Chana or the injured,
The arcane roots of peace long left to wither found their fissure.
Red and grey were falling leaves to feed the fertile, changing ground,
Their fading colours, memories of a callow crown brought down.

‘There’s never separation of the ocean and the river,
And only if we cease its flow do we come to see division.
Your daughters waited long to prove the promise of the child,
Your sons surrender skin and bone to our union long denied’.


2012 – November 22nd 2019, 5.24pm