Phased

Skies and swords,
Assassins swing
Through the hours,
The death bell tolls
And the hours grow old,
Blades of blood
Cut the hero out of me,
The cliffs are red now
And for the fearless
Legends become
The warriors way,
Would bamboo blades
Slash as deeply
As your words today?
Endless Battle royal
Of shaded truths,
Phantom memories,
Could we leap
Through time together,
Would this be our
Last chance at eden?

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Poem © Phen Weston

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3 thoughts on “Phased

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