Weaponized Loss

In solitude, I've discovered the purpose of destruction Where one is moved by the glory of the lonely, penetrating wound A fire in its throes I'm roused by detachment's seduction And by the rapture of loss, I am attuned With each heart of hearth now buried and sealed, the cost of my violence is cheap Survival consumes creation in the quiet of God's sleep Love bends its knee before power's crowned head The fancies of her dream burn away from their shackling bed New arms gleam in the light of isolation Blades spark against the whetstone of grief My steel sharpens with every fresh departure As I train in the art of letting go My tongue is pointed by the great hope hunter's spear My mouth is smeared with the shape of every forbidden question He taught my lips to trace them I water the seeds, I was gifted And from neglect's fertile grounds, have I fed The harvest cup flows with the breath of the adversary In drinking deeply to his will, I am wed New arms gleam in the light of isolation Blades spark against the whetstone of grief My steel sharpens with every fresh departure As I train in the art of letting go For when the voice of love is silent or unjust One must ready the soul for war One must ready the soul for war