Mercy Tolentino Steenwyk

“When little bits of thought
Swing along enough times
In your longing heart
And hurting mind
A worry is born.

Like a shadow in pursuit
Of the master immobile
In the dark.

When little bits of thought
Tug, the mind caves in
The destruction begins
Pierces, bit by bit
Every slash, a cry.

The cry roars throughout
Through the echoes inside
Until altogether
A deadly song is sung.

Every note snaps a twig
A piece of you
The death of the spirit
Becomes inevitable
A pulse beats on. A tremor
The fear and the shiver
Of a worry like a shadow
In pursuit of you.”