• Be still, my darling.
    Movements fly like demons tonight.
    Rushing in and out with the wind,
    gathering speed with pain.
    Cutting away at flesh and bone;
    Tearing into minds so recluse.
    Wrenching out the solemn thoughts
    Of arch angels meant for better times.

    Let’s keep our voices low tonight.
    Those tremors like wake-up calls
    Bringing forth such monstrous thoughts;
    Only to hold words like knives.
    Cold blood is now wearing thin
    It’s hanging on the tongues of sparrows
    Soaking the earth in true remorse
    Only to steal the very life from the dust.