Edged in the black silk of night
that wraps about our taut and supple limbs
arising from the fortifying waters
where a parched and weathered soul swims
the journey of remembrance is the distance between us
along a road that ends where it begins

Where shadowed sentries rise up and try
to assassinate from fields in the blind
while weathered torches bathe a landscape
in rivers of crimson
that seep up from behind
as we lay entwined
together in the dips and hollows
that create a bed of hope inside our mind

Pray the wings that carry a heart
land softly upon unbroken and even ground
whilst giving thanks to Heaven and Hell
for the shattering pleasure
to which we became bound
so that the ashes of the fires we built
but are now banked
drift silently to earth
on a whisper with no sound