The daughter
of a hard man
craving a rambling
softness
a rustling of
wind down south
resting on the willows
crackling to flame
when he
caught my eye
but temptation
does no good
to those dreamers
those sinners in reverse
but that fault
wasn’t his
when the devil
found his prize
captured quick
as the bullets
found their way
down my spine
as a rusted silhouette
at the gates
of your judgement
as the body of water
lapping against
where your love ends
I sit here
in the everlasting silence
waiting for the violence
of my justice.