BETWEEN FRIENDS

Somewhere above the crimson skies
And beneath the grungy netherworld
Shrouded in the your dark brilliance
I dimmed away my flame.

No you didn’t land me a cut
But I am bled nevertheless
With the knife of your nod
I severed off my limbs.

And what if you brought me oars
To sail this sluice of hope;
I may not swim the tides
Wet from the gore of my gouge.

So let the wound sieve
And the husk of pain be mine,
What slips through the pores shall
Be the ruse of your smile.