A few short cuts,
In what seems to be a very long run, at times.
A woman here,
A woman there.
Sperms in every state,
Was the journey worth the conclusion?
She shall ask,
when you burn-
In different faces, in different forms..
A fragile heart, the only commonality.
The shadows applaud with some macabre..
They dance, in pyres of glee.
Ides of March, they come.