---

To know your kind

A saving grace

To be your very own demise

I see in threes

I am seeing black blood as pouring rain

Wondering what it means

To become whole again

To be able to breathe

Clean air or your skin

Some days remain

As bodies we hold

We still own them to owe them

The moon sings to the forest

Old lores of precious darkness

And death leaves

In hindsight, going clear

As deep as the ocean

Serenity for centuries

To keep you here

Yet as empty as these veins

The longing and a promise