We walked across the impulse bridge
that led into our chests.
I hope that when you looked down at your feet,
you saw wood like I did, instead of concrete.
The rain started falling just last week.
The oak soaked it up like poison.
Everything glistened in the moon's cold light
and as I won the war, I threw the fight.
There is a double edged sword
buried in my back
and there is nothing but a blade
to hold on to.
It's a funny thing how rain makes living things grow
while the dead ones will rot slow.
Was there a zombie heart there from the start
or just a sense of what should be done?
So maybe there was a board or two gone
and I could have jumped the gaps,
but that was never the source of hesitation.
That bridge was headed in the wrong direction.
But there is still a double edged sword
buried in my back
and nothing
to hold onto.
