Whole body unravelling.
soul’s glow, fire below from depths you can’t have known.
Written below the horrors that go
to a half written show where the tide will never flow.
Money won’t grow, business is shallow.
The skin peels the fabric the soul eats the mellow.
Conjoined at the heart,
New fire tears them apart and again they restart,
according to the chart.
© G.P Williamson 2017