An Endless Cycle

[tallonrk1]

Thud—Thud—Thud,
Where’s that thudding coming from?
Is it the thudding of my foot
On the ashes where I put
The broken ties left behind?
No, it’s the thudding of my blood
Against walls of vein that shove
An ecstasy in my heart;
It can only be love.

Crack—Crack—Crack,
What’s that cracking getting at?
Is it the cracking of my bones
That were weakened down to hone
My strength the next time around?
No, it’s the cracking of my heart
And chambers that have lain
In remains of limbs strewn apart;
It can only be pain.

And yet, there seems to be a link
Between the thudding zeal and the cracking Zen,
I can only hope—
That my heart does not spill the ink
And stain my countenance—again.