often I curse our creator
for building us broken
before I am reminded
she hardwired us brains
hell-bent on fixing themselves
so the pieces we must place
are in their disarry
what makes us whole

conflagration that light the evening sky
crackling smoldering moans and laughter
two flames that dances in a  wild swirl
embers that glows bright as the star
blazing burning in sweet sinful desire
such internal inferno that slowly grows

They charged into war
With power and grace
A breed of horses
Wrapped in lace
The men oh wonderful
But slayed so forceful
Oh dear my Lord, my Shepard
My fate
Many have fallen with terrible hate
The skies were grey
The Devil was paid
With the lives of the fallen
And the grace of hate
Oh such grief
It twas such grim
As death played its hymn