Poem on extra-marital relationships: We Bleed, Dear Ones

We bleed, dear ones
We bleed.
Bleed together
Bleed apart

Peripherically aware
Of the pain that we cause
The cuts we inflict
With sword
With shield

Blindingly aware of
The white heat of pain
That we ourselves feel
Struck by
An adversary's sword
Or an ally's shield.

We knew of the pain to follow when swords were drawn.
Yes, we knew.
"Live by the sword
Die by the sword,"
We sportingly said.

Pain, my friend,
Is more real
Than all the philosophy in the world.

We bleed
And pay the price for drawing first blood
Or failing to.

Pray that the adversary's sword was clean.
Pray that the ally's shield was clean.
Pray that our own blood is clean.
Pray that the wound is clean.
Pray that the pain that we suffer
Is Clean.

Pray that the tears
That blind us
Are clear, purifying.

Pray for

But pray not for
Seek not the peace that
Makes the sword rust in its sheath.

Wounds shall heal
But rusted swords...
Ah, my friends
What can we do to ease the pain
Of a sword that will not leave its sheath
For better or for ill?
So, pray not for peace.

We bleed, dear ones,
We bleed.
In truth, we choose
The path of blood
The path of pain
The path of the sword.

Blood it is that joins us all in the end.
Pain it is that reveals our shared humanity.

No adversaries here, nor allies.
Only we who bleed and hurt
And thereby
Know ourselves
Know one another.

Pitted as adversaries
Or allies
We bleed and hurt alike.
We are one in pain.


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