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Has an axe,
Capable to tear the heart
Apart.
Until I tasted its wrath
Through the grip of your tongue.
Not that I was aware
the word ‘friend’
Poisons the soul
With much sorrow
Until I tasted it in rounds
In the meal of your mouth.
I crave healing, I beg thee
Through your sweet words, plenty ‘honey’
tasted in between the lines.
So from distress my heart will arise
To embrace the sweet savour of your new words,
And the sting of ‘brother’ will cease to hurt.
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