Shrill fanged fire ripping fort of ash,
burnt and battered. As a bloom blackens
under dry hot heaven, under a heft sun,
death came demanding. He ran for dear life
through red crossroads, ribs distorting,
quick and quaking, to the quiet wood.

Sharp reaming rock crushing rain of pain,
wild and wrathful. As the wheat writhes
under stone grip grinding, under a grim flint,
death came demanding. She burst for dyed sky
cross thin openings, trunk distending,
stark and shaking, to the safe trees.

Worn flying feet matching fate of night,
many and mirrored. Deep in mind mourning
over now lost lovers, over two lives torn,
grief now gathering. The pace has gone slow
‘neath dark awnings, dusk intruding,
cold and counting, they reach calm glen.

Low sudden stares making sight of other,
swift and searching. Long to see something
within black eyes ebbing, within their elm shade,
hope now hastening. They step half to other
under bright refuge, branch sheltering,
warm and wobbling, they hug with tears.

Forms sleeping sound clutching strong of other,
droll and different. Glad to dwell doting
under stars lit linking, under a lost moon,
pain stops pulsating. The soft pleas of rest
‘til dawn embrace, day parading,
struck but smiling, their fate sewn tight.