Bloodless Hearth
Its a chilly and breezy thursday night time,
The start of an stop.
The two small and remarkable,
All accumulated with blazing firewoods of their fingers,
The once a year ritual is the following.
Gentle tunes constructed from those drums, travels because of our ears.
Penetrating our souls,
Melting stony hearts,
Strengthening weakened knees.
Wearing black,
We take a solemn stroll around the hearth.
Eyes mounted on it flame because it burns slowly.
Our hearts are heavy,
Our unhappiness, weaknesses, miseries and sorrows we have now come to burn.
Somewhat infant of approximately age four steps ahead,
"mum you left devoid of gazing me develop into the princess you sought after me to be....i nonetheless will make you proud as you take a seat in heaven"
those she muttered,
Losing her picket inside the hearth and set free a grin.
My previous and error,
Mistrust and disappointments,
Those am right here to burn.
To set my soul loose and make a sparkling flip.
To extract from it flame and set my chilly loins aflame.
Its any other day,
An afternoon to face by using this bloodless hearth and permit it refine me.
