Bridge of Thistles

The ridges of a golden spine,
jutting mountains of paper thin skin –
the death place of optimism.
Matted hair frames a face of grace,
muscles betray the attack
of the weight upon his back.

The ridges of a golden spine
rise amidst the graveyard of our youth –
the birth place of forgiveness.
A choir of angels perched as doves,
black robes and  grey hearts,
metal prayers, state of the art.

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