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These hands of mine:
Weapons of defense
Tools of creation
Extensions of emotion
Beacons of pain.
These hands of mine:
Weapons of defense
Tools of creation
Extensions of emotion
Beacons of pain.
In lonely silence
Swirling vultures strike
A feast for days.
Numbed by pain
Determination falters
Darkness seeps.
In crushing pause
Love surrounds me
Accepting breath.
From the darkest hole I climb
Six syllables at a time.
My voice cries out!
Betrayed from within
And breath.
Invisible tears
Neither fall off nor on
To deaf ears.