Controversy & Balance

I beckoned God, and the sun set still; and diamond eyes; and
Rills of pain; and cry the night; and wake the day; for
Something grows—and something dies; and touch the stem—
And ‘demn the light—a beige freedom. I’m terrified, forced

To war; and such the course—a crying grave; and what to
Give—a sea of self; and what to feel—a woman’s grief; and
Die the heart—pleading mercy; and she cringes—a piece of
Death; and I rise—the scent of pain; and we fall—screaming

Hatred. What the vision; and why invest—a shattered soul;
For love is great; but love measures—and time kills; and what
The time; and what to give; and what the soul—a limp degree;
And thus the pause. I imagine—a yard of graves and ghosts
And pangs and tears and fears and death and jeers; and I
Perish—carried pain; and we flourish—a neighbor’s flame.