...Morning blooms
a spark for a flame that burns
from the ashes of
unfaithful truths
Grass turns to earth
not to wither with
a sweetened love's hope
but to endure the violent
grounds of
fragile
trust
Past the struggle
the calm after the midnight
Past the doubt
a walk... and a hand
with another
It transcends belief and pride
Be it time... to blood
to bones to
dust...