Breath to Mend

The healing springs will levitate
 the captured arrows of a fate
 to grim a sight to now behold
 in cheerful ruin. We are told

to cut the soil and glue this stone
 to paint the tombs as white as bone
 in mazes wander, sweet caress
 from deities whose thoughts I bless

Take hold of spite and see the door
 into the womb of faith and flaw
 is only how this all should end
 until your soul finds breath to mend.