Breath on Glass

Created by the author using Midjourney

Take a Listen: Breath on Glass

Breath on Glass

by Baldric the Poet

No gold is won
in this shivering war,
only a heart hammered thin
and scraped raw,
until it’s a room gone cold,
a cellar gone still,
with no space left
for a self-willed thrill.

This peace is a heavy
and a lonesome wealth,
a tethered pulse,
a ghostly health,
binding the spirit
to the dirt and the stone,
while the marrow aches
in the hollow of the bone.

For purity is a bond
of iron and of ice,
a refusal to pay
the blood’s dark price,
it’s the thrumming link,
the secret, thin wire,
that keeps a man’s soul
from the heat of the fire.

O Divine,
who holds the sun and the gale,
look down on a man whose will
is gone frail.
Put blinders on my eyes,
seal the gates of my sense,
and build up…