Slow and Warm,
Cleanse the pain from my face —
Carry away the refuse of hopes dashed,
Wash the war torn paths of my mind —
Refreshing all that has become brittle,
Dampening what has turned to dust,
What threatened to blow away
in the smallest breeze
At any moment.
from the spring of fear and hope —
Of love lost and longed for —
Within the core of my being.
Can they hold the heartache?