Sentiment

 The arrow that flew to the bird

that died in the air,

replaced my heart

The canvas of the artist painting

stood in the rain, melting

replaced my eyes

The road that met its end at the sea

drowned suddenly.

The year that we met we drew swords

but met at the crossroads

Where is home now, without a heart

to hear yours beathing,

without eyes to meet your glance,

to travel together as far as we can?

Where is home with love,

no sentiment but as equals.