entry of the dart

where all the edges reach into the heart

are no clear corners nor a single sign

that time is changing the dividing line

is never crossed yet all are kept apart

by the hard means of some still arcane art

which the most foolish will insist divine

or claim as kindly warm tender benign

although they bleed from entry of the dart

we're far into the strange realm of the blind

where all the rules evil and perverse

and every bullet seems to find its mark

dead centre but the lying human mind

insists reality can't be adverse

that all is light down here deep in the dark