Heart of Flesh

The soul wanders,

Searching for a resting place.

[A cry is heard,

Echoing through the narrow streets

That wind long and remain unforgiving]

The land lies barren and dry,

No form stands to greet the wandering soul. 

Fists clenched. Salt lines. 

Destruction waits, intertwined with the darkness that seeks to ensnare.

But the darkness did not account 

For the match held

By two trembling hands.

[A cry is heard,

Echoing through the narrow streets

That wind long and remain unforgiving]

The land lies barren and dry,

But there stands a form,

Waiting to greet the wandering soul.

Arms open. Salt lines.