Which Hand? - Attrition

Power, the web of desire

Will bring the house down.

Burn, spat the preacher

From a hill that entered heaven.

Pay or die — cried the boatman.

Blood — screamed the goddess.

I long for the peace of night

In which all colours blend.

Perhaps it’s death calling me, another death.

I need to feel again,

To feel myself

In self love.

I need to love again,

To feel myself

In self love.

I need to feel again.

I need to love again.