Kept In My Locket

Writing nodes

the roads unfold

to find me a better place.

while the beauty inside,

finds grace behind lines

in which tides held us bound

by reprieve.

 

 

 

there's just more that I see

behind the woods of dagger's intent,

but a stream of insolence

dare crosses that path and by that,

she calls upon me,

ever flesh of the pleading kind

does she grasp for innocent skin,

gentle hides of those

who try to read me.

 

 

 

however empty it may be,

it is never so to me.