The Cycle

Cycle, The Cycle
Ohia in Decay by Les Williams

When arrows soar through open doorsCycle, The Cycle.
Piercing scars once healed now revealed.
Eagle’s eyes look upon their young with pride
as they nestle in a tree on a hill.

Babies snuggle upon their mother’s chest.
Hearts break from lovers quarrelsCycle, The Cycle.
Shattered glass.
Broken windows.

Needlepoints pricked on ouch-less fingers.
Once frosted panes require lubricated joints.
Willows blow amidst the wind.
Angels sing. But devils win.

A joker laughs
But does not grin.
The worlds on axis
yet doesn’t spin.

With so much space
one gets lost.
We could run
still we walk.

We drown…
We can’t swim.
Endless parallels hanging
on lifeless limbs.

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