Continuation

Force of words
Trickles down the nerve
Loving what is lost
Going back through the frost
I can't help but open up
Otherwise I may close forever.
The thought of which leads me
To think of all that is lost.

Force of actions
The rising of scarlet hues
Staining the world dead
As the way I feel
Can only be described;
Glowing ember
Set loose from the ovens
Burns all it touches
Yet gives us warmth.

Hold out your hand and watch,
Ever closely,
The wind falls through the cracks
Can you feel it?
Does it change the feelings of desire?

Warm Up

Dark corridors collecting dust
Stacking up in profound ways
The measure of what you think is just
Compounded by the one who says:
"Is it better to be lost or found,
or better yet succumb to oblivion?"

Long hallways stretching onward
As labyrinthine as a summer's frost;
Water flowing where it doesn't belong
Cutting like glass yet smooth as milk.
Infinity seems long...

Wrappings

A heart wrapped in muslin,
Still bleeds,
When left at room temperature.
It still beats,
Even after several slights
or tests of might.
This human condition:
Safe as can be,
Until you leave your house.

A heart wrapped in muslin,
Still bleeds,
But not forever.
It has a shelf life,
Which may be longer
Than your neighbor's.
It's hard to say.
Do you want to know
Or would you rather let it be?