Strength

In days of strength
I ponder thee with open heart.
My hands hold my hands
       holding nothing.

Joy is weightless.
It is delighted with the lightness 
       of the burden of the void.

I have destroyed the image of myself
I found buried with the bones of my childhood.
In the shadow of the wildwood,
I resurrected the shadow of my past
      and put golden bullets through the heartless place it lived from.