A Short Poem

I’ve watched you survive.

A killer with a heart too big,

a trigger happy savage love.

By god, carve a singular hot drop

from your callous heart.

Breathe air from below your mountain,

rise and render golden dreams,

rip them from hell’s furnace.

Strike ink from the fountains of your wrists.

It’s better than dying.

In your wicked world with your bellowing soul,

It’s better than dying.

But stop first. And in the quiet,

warm your hands at the fire

of your deep savage love.

[embed]https://medium.com/the-power-of-poetry/the-power-of-poetry-3d8dfd2beecc[/embed]