Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Thirty circles
Bold and bright
Ancient days and
Timeless night
Wasted moments
Treasured slice
Of life eternal
Entered thrice
As child, as maid
As mother fair.
As soul so heavy
Limp with care.
Dragging onward,
Cutting ruts
And dusty trails
In gore and guts;
The viscera of life’s true trials
The lies and laughs
The way and wiles
Of those who tempt
And those you trust
Of what you need
And what you lust.
Now that rut it cuts both ways
A path you built through shining days
A light beside, a glow before: Lead on and find your core.
(c) Mabh Savage 2012