Brave Eilata

Cannonball made of swan feathers,
sits an uncertain weight at your feet.
It's not the way you see it,
it's the way you think of it.
Brave Eilata.

Destitute in showers of moon beams
you have bathed in them for years.
Every century: one swipe of a pencil,
mapping out a renewed portion of your life.
Brave Eilata.

Hate is an unforgiving mystery killer,
on the lookout for a body to inhabit.
Don't let her take you without a confrontation,
success is the loudest form of revenge.
Brave Eilata.

Do not corrupt our values with mourning.
We listen to uninhabited words,
they crawl to the tip of your tongue.
Loitering there and giving in, blocking entry.
Brave Eilata.

All humanity left you on a child’s swing.
Your hearts bloated with animosity, you're trapped.
Lose them worries (weights will lift off your chest),
you will be able to fly; sprinting free.
Brave Eilata.