Metallic Lips

Sweet sundering promises
Broken by the promise of hate
Life and love no longer mingle
Alas all is gone and done

And why the sword strikes us down
With its metallic lips
For frying fish may be unsatisfactory
But don't you make the list

And selling stones
Diamonds are no good
When leather gloves will do
Grass whistles and hummingbirds

Silent strikes
Of dagger nights
In purple smoke hued robes
Far out of this perilous continent