Grounding

Your world is swaying, losing its shores,
Beneath the web of veins – a small fledgling
Beats against the ice of bones. A mute soul
Tries on the chains of despair.

Feverish turns burn out,
The tight shell becomes a prison.
Loneliness sharpens its blade on the edge,
Where instead of a cry – an icy abyss.

But then – a palm. Warm and firm,
Quiets the pain that boiled in the veins.
Grounding… and a radiant silence
Stops the bird that fluttered in the chest.

From now on, two hearts carve out the step,
Peace has frozen in the depths of the pulse.