Spilt

Thought this at work ... all day

My fists are burning red stars wrapped around blackened wrought iron steel
My fists are shards of shattered windshield glass flying at a hundred miles an hour
My fists are stone sledge hammers pounding upon an anvil of reconstruction
My fists are unadulterated hatred smashing Love's teeth in
My fists hold tight on apathetic appliances applying force without malice
My fists contain all force and power, because I hold them at bay
An open hand is truth, love and a peace offering
Prey that is the gift I bestow upon you today, tomorrow ... everyday.