Aug 212011
 
When the briar brave entwines my grave,
	 And heart, kept cold, is fallow laid
	 Beneath the green and twisted braid
What rose will come to show me saved?

What rose from all the horrored heart
	 Will fly harried from the dour hole?
	 What emblem of the buried soul
Will rise to tell my harrowed part?

If twixt rounds of panting fight or dance
	 All is 'catch our breaths' to kill again
	 And love is all love unspoken
We're but two tigers in a trance

Who pace and leer and wait to leap
	 Who've lungs for roar yet none for love;
	 Who toy and tear the departing dove
And too late let our anger sleep.

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