For my Brothers,
with bitter stubbed fingers,
skin weighted in craters of gold and copper,
attacking the body at a rate harsher than the coldest wind of the sea,
instead of removing those that place harm
it seems blankets have been placed in front of eyes,
to cover up truth that lies like salt on tongues,
everyone expects you to get on with it,
expects you to switch off your eye’s,
to replace the extinguished flame in your heart,
with something warmer,
to just wake up one day and replace all the wrongdoings,
to replace where you have been marked on your body,
your skull cracked in places,
like stencils showing you outlines,
sketches have been drawn inside you,
riddled blood of red mud, and poison,
no Man in sight,
having to gain emotional wellbeing through women,
dying wolves,
an anger defined not in words only hands being dragged through glass,
through a fire that cannot sink any deeper in your body,
only reigniting a wild storm that won’t leave,
oh how I wish that I could take you under my arms,
like feathers on a hawk,
wrapping my way around you,
A peacock,
to bring colour and warmth back into souls
that have been killed by their own family,
bystanders just as bad as the sinner,
everyone lost in their own troubles,
not knowing the suffering has ended all our lives