Fierce whips of love light…

Fierce whips of love light

Dance in front of my eyes

Opera of our souls

Slow majesty curtain of the damned

Can never bleed and stain our pure hearts

 

We approach people admiring sunsets

Ignorant of their beings

We love them like statues moving

Slow, physical, vivid bodies

 

What am I?

But a wounded storm

Slow, cold winds of apathy

Yet, I boast in having the heart of an eagle

Running through America’s screaming woods of our time

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