Jun 2017
Two hands: one's fire and one holds ice. Think twice.
For they hold the keys to living in death or life.
Heavy hands shake like earthquakes as the heat licks and heals a hurt place.
A hurt heart that lusts a restart to a life that ripped it apart.
And in the other hand is the ice that takes life and places it in the chill grip of loving clarity.
Yes it's scary to be there chasing life with barren feet, trying to catch it to see the next day while bullets cut you down like a farm's cedar tree.
Embrace the kiss of death and maybe the caress will last. But escape her grasp before she leeches your mind and makes you nothing more than another dead gutter rat, dear brother, for that's what you'll be, old wrappings and bottle tops: trash. Just another dead body on the ground who couldn't handle two hands: One with fire and one that holds ice.
For they hold the keys to living in death or life.
Heavy hands shake like earthquakes as the heat licks and heals a hurt place.
A hurt heart that lusts a restart to a life that ripped it apart.
And in the other hand is the ice that takes life and places it in the chill grip of loving clarity.
Yes it's scary to be there chasing life with barren feet, trying to catch it to see the next day while bullets cut you down like a farm's cedar tree.
Embrace the kiss of death and maybe the caress will last. But escape her grasp before she leeches your mind and makes you nothing more than another dead gutter rat, dear brother, for that's what you'll be, old wrappings and bottle tops: trash. Just another dead body on the ground who couldn't handle two hands: One with fire and one that holds ice.
