The Equivocal Heart

The mulberry dawn and vermillion sunset
are just two shades of red: blood-bright
in early, or late, sky.
One brings hope and the new-promised day,
and the other brings the night.

In new beginnings, naïve and foolish hope
spring eternal as childish love,
for young or newly old.
Love brings faith and broken-promised lies
on the wings of a broke-backed dove.

A dynamic soul in constant torment
pours drivel, pointless, like this,
on a blameless virgin page.
He'll conjure the image of a carrion crow
and his own stale and curdled bliss.