X. Brambles and Ash

Skies turn grey with thunder
Barren lands lay trembling beneath
The wrath of hardened rain; I wonder

What fury holds the hearts of wicked men
Whose fists cheat rings of gold; to ebb the love
Of those from which wombs their children stem

Forked tongues silhouette fear; which in the doorway stands
What devil paints red the lips of grace
With the blood of vodka driven hands?

Darkness harvests vengeance, silence cradles pain
Pain deeper than flesh; she waits
For the heels of hatred to abandon her grievous shame

Alone by firelight, the innocent nurtured within her blouse
Brambles in the hearth; to ash, like fragile spirits burn;
Disintegrating dreams trampled in the soot of broken vows
She weeps for love borne by the lining of silver clouds