The Two Cliffs

The heart is a bitter bulb
Bearing brackish, barbed blossoms
Kneaded, knotted roots and gnarled shoots
The heart is a boorish beast
Blunt, budging, beating,
Beating away time
Filling my faltering blood with fear
Fear; oh, foul fields of fear
That stretch trillions of treacherous miles,
Ending abruptly at the colossal cliffs of "yes" and "no".

Here I stand,
Facing this field
Shoots and stalks of bitter bulbs
Brimming with beasts, bellowing over the pounding of me
I could have crossed my foot
Clawing towards time as it pounded past
Making a break for the shade of certainty

But I, I chose the river
The long and languorous serpent,
Slithering away toward the endless black sea.
A dilapidated boat upon this wistful river,
I float beside the shores of fear
And in the water's gentle rocking, my harried heart grows quiet.
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