To whom do I address my work
To God or to the Hurt
And are they as but one
A chemistry to be undone
A Love Story I cannot save
For reality is the grave
That is impending all our lives
The swimmer is she who dives
Down into recesses dark
To find what they impart
And when I come up for air
I find that there’s nothing there
Only the Armada to come
And the jealousy of the One
To be single and be whole
To rest inside my soul
And need no complete
The swords will fall at my feet
For how could you but betray
The one who has gone away