So have I found? Where to begin…
This epicenter claims the skin,
As roots begin, to shape and carry,
Flourishing, this calling tells me,
Keep it going.
Almost there, (and)
Leave the focus,
Without care.
Apocalyptic death of cell,
The holocaust? Too soon to tell.
When all is lost,
And all I see,
Is blood.
And all I feel,
Is vacancy.