Image by Brooks Elliott via FlickrStand watchA few minutes to bear
Ancient bark digs into skin
To support the weight of a dying soul
Crouched and statuesque
Lungs encased in a concrete tomb
Stamina the spare baggage
Dropped when the pain began
Each breath a cold tendril
Sifting through the cracks
Of a poorly built, misled union
Strategy for the emotional storm
From atop this pile of memories--
An hourglass' waste--a solitary view
Upon those that know the truth
And those that misunderstand its intent
The coarse nature of this life
Feeds the angry, salivating horde
Hungry to introduce pain
Even at the risk of love
One powerful hand
Unleashes the force of a flood
Or holds the dam in place
Deliberation: an hour, a minute, a second more
Patient strength for an honest future
Lies upon the precipice of your lips
A passionate touch to live
An inquisition to die
