Sketches of eruption and tethered to hate. The fury churns the heart to beat in manic strains. Stars explode behind the eyes of Apollo's forgotten sons. Broken arrow finding home, flesh now mixed with broken bones. Achilles may have been something, but now walks with a limp. Oedipus warns and you turn your ears. This tortured curse forever ours to share.

Alone in every definition, no directions and lost for miles. Her voice a haunting sting, a ghost wasp in the moonlight craving disparity. Cloudy stars on colder nights remain aware of scars and pride. From where I am and the view from these eyes, lessons learned through actions and time. I refuse this fate, to destroy and revive.