a land forlorn
and summer scorned
the fading faith of shadows born
the growing thorns
and life reborn
calling out for purpose shorn

cradles of creased wood
that yearn for hearths worn
fierce like hope could
black skies to breed storms
pain like these eyes formed
and strain like I would

groping for all things
take away the limitings
shoulder with hot tea
forego the worrying
hold on like steel string
grasp words like knowing
knives thrown for owing
own life like borrowing