# untitled sestina i spoke a name like fire rinsed in ashes and filled up broken glass until all i could see was war And the martyrs son i spoke a name like love before i knew love i knew low fires burning out, nothing more than ashes melted down into tempered glass stained in a temple of war i knew the maidens son he was a good son not raised for loyalty and love he was lightning strike fires The promise of ashes a face pressed against glass shattering under the drum of war i have always known war born winged, warriors son built not for love but for facing the fires facing the failed ashes heart cased in unyeilding glass lightning strikes glass memories of war haunt the heart of the son i have never known the martyr, love only open fires and the scent of the ashes after war, after ashes, after fires we are glass sons born of love