Attrition

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.
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