My first life
was of snow and sorrow,
of aching and bleeding
amongst demons
and rib bare wolves
A freedom striking blow,
my hands themselves
became useless
Swallowed alive
by black spruces
The brighter the soul
the darker the shadows
My first life
was of snow and sorrow,
of aching and bleeding
amongst demons
and rib bare wolves
A freedom striking blow,
my hands themselves
became useless
Swallowed alive
by black spruces
The brighter the soul
the darker the shadows
Filed under poetry