Sharp edges, coarse ends.
Graze the skin, feel the pain.
I forgot the gloves in the expectation there won't be danger.
I fore went any protection, knowing and hoping I would be safe.
The festering pustule.
The torn skin.
Pierced souls,
Shattered glass hearts.
No need to stay calloused, I said.
No need for shield, sword and spear.
Just another sheep from the flock,
No wolves here.
No need for binds now,
Let the blood flow,
Let the me wallow in my ignominious state,
My plume once again is no more.
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