Ronin 3

Before I wake this split second of pure white joy alone in a field of blowing grasses and nothing No sound no fear no joy no duty just infinity with the sun and sky and self The quiet peace humbles me before I blink And clash thunderous swords with a soul I share no history with except an ending A tear-filled mother and scorn-bitten child that realize nothing but the taste of vengeance in their mouths their spit burns the earth it falls on as a father’s blood feeds the flowers that grow in spring