Have you been a member of the Tribes of the Cassée?
(A lone voice whispers)
Like a seductive crimson arrow shot from Eros' golden bow.
The Moon. Mankind and all the Milky Way know when that crimson arrow hits. Your once well-planned path will split.
And all the famous harmonies of poetry will lament at your door like falling winter leaves, as you walk in its low country.
And if you're really lucky, you'll be hit by an arrow that never falls out and makes you bleed.
But if unlucky. Doomed to fall out and grieve.
But in mournful lips there is an exquisite gift.
A new taste of a dark sensation.
A greatness to express a new world outlook from a tear filled Nation.
So fear not if Love's crimson arrow takes you down like an Eagle from the Sky.
Your new gift might be to write from experience in any form or in a well-written book.
It might help to console someone new to the Tribes of the Cassée.
To help them as their soul cries and grieve.
Like someone who graciously once wrote this to me.
When I was a lost member of the Tribes of Hemoglobinopathy.
For love is a disease of the blood, and when you're broken, you'll need someone strong to lean on.
To help you walk out of its deep mud.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
(Cassée - Broken)
Image shared under fair usage policy.
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