That Sad Feeling

Thousand swords are sharpening,

Not yet pierce,

The heart that sings silver tears,

As the glorious ranks of smitten shields,

Defend the heart of sorrow,

A turn of mind settles the battle,

And thaws the frozen heat,

The heat released drives the foe,

Through chinks of light,

In crevices of cloud,

Foe cries in spasms,

Throat puffs

Eyes wiped,

Chest heaves relief,

Gut loosened of its mazes,

Mind set clear,

Desicions,

Steady pace,

Rocky road