You make me give up too easily
without a fight. I will not
ask any questions.

The elite mercy you are
endowed with, green eyes,
invite me for a daunting embrace.

It cracked under the chariot
on runway. The wings scattered,
I will not be able to fly now.

One day, I gave you my dagger
to put it my heart.
You had tied my hands for real.

Overreached by words of
mouth, a quill becomes a
pen, waiting about carnage.