The peaks that hold the cold and sterile sky
Rest upon curves both feminine and kind
And carefully erases every dye
That invades the sickest of human minds

What solace will be seen to come here
When the wind blows a cold southerly gale
The air will carry our convictions clearly
Through what shall come, this sleet and rain and hail.

No matter the hurt they will surely pour
On our hearts and our flesh before the end
We will come before them quite unsoured
With our steely grit and our wills unbent

Until time passes on whatever coils
That fate would have in store for you and i
To bind us to inevitable perils
And triumphant victories on these isles.

The stiffness of my joints is met only
By the inane sound passing through my ears
Rigidly cementing my mind slowly
With the fears only old men are aware

What will I be when I’m 64?
Happy or alone? With dreams realised
Or postponed, indefinitely ignored
How can I tell now whereabouts I’ll arrive?

But at least, when we all leave for our breaks
We can find the time to reclaim our minds
To sit in silent comfort and forsake
The weary trudging of the daily grind.

Gripped.

siliceous crystals,
ice like granulated glass
crumbles readily.

it's reign is halted
only by the height of the tree line

A widely known fact
Is that a women’s heart is black
And from within that horrid vessel
Wrestle evils that never settle

But what is never said
Nor stated
A discussion you can’t have unabated

Because there is a man
Who will stand
In the way of the doorway
With a brand
In his hand.

He places it against her cheek,
The freak!
Doesn’t even show the slightest pity
To her ****** little shrieks.

His only prerogative, it seems
Stem to stream a dream to mar his wares
Like mares and ******.