the roaring lion inside
reduced to timid ash
***** sheets and empty hearts
calling out from the desert
fata morgana?
a call from the past...
if you were a cube on the sand,
with the hot desert wind
cooling
down
all
hopes
of reconciliation
a ghost of the past
that's what you've become
you chose to be

fly away you falcon,
find another prey
i'll hide until you come back
an illusion of being