deeper into the woods
a heart will be lost
a life defying to be found
a prophet on a street corner
speaking and stealing words hauntingly familiar
bitter and biting
time, pregnant with doubt
bearing the weight no one would rather talk about
dreaming on fire, the kind that refines and cleans
holding on to time as it drops one grain at a time
one minute at a time
a future is forged with the tiniest of lines
unseen by blurring, bleeding eyes