No Bloodied Hands

Let there not be mire
but the taste of fresh air
or that we may fade
in some other place
Let there be fire
in peoples instead
so they may embrace
no nothingness
or else build a fortress
and swathe the night anew
or to awake tomorrow
with no bloodied hands

Tomorrow Perhaps

How far have you set out
When will I be your sunset
How I've waited for an unending dawn
or that we may fade with the rain

Oh, tomorrow perhaps,

The glare above the sky is
only but a thousand more dusks