My Cold Dead Hands

Shadows rise over the lay of the land,
A hole is filled where emptiness began,
A smile brings warmth;
A shattering thought,
A deception when kindness goes forth.

A long cold rain falling through tired veins
Breaking down the will to transform hate,
Enemy of fate;
Love's forgotten plaint,
Buried in its own shallow grave.

• 01/11/03, Invercargill