Martyrs find me.
Here they find a heart
that is a fighter
but do they see the comforter, lover, dreamer?
Martyrs seek me out
a detour in their predetermined
And a glint in their eye betrays their secret-
the one that says ‘this is the beginning of the end’
And in our crossing paths,
we learn painful truths from each other.
But on a day just as unassuming as this
your heart found mine;
it took refuge beside it like
one that had always been there.
there was no glint.
It wasn’t a ticking bomb,
it wasn’t a traveler,
but one just gravitating
to another that looked like it.
how long did it take?
how many detours it make?
what did it learn on the way and,
is it happy to be home?