At_Last

Breath G.F.E. McGuiness

Ghosts of seething rage unspent Reveal in winter's nip, Vented years of unseen tears Swallowed side by side with pride Exhumed from frozen grip By passion's flare Across the lip.

Should inner weeping ever cease Could I strive toward inner peace? Or burn, by hell of heat's increase?

Postured juxt of wet and fire Flamed of love Keened for Eire Arrangement ripped of honor's blame So the better to the flame.

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