Take this slice of my soul

Wrapped in barbed wire

And blood

It is of no further use to me.

Take this ventricle

A pump is of no use

Without the blood 

To feed the veins.

Take my spine

I have long lost

The power

Of upright stance.

Take my breath

The cold has frozen

My throat

Seeping out through the cuts you made.

Now you have the whole

Of me

Which you may treasure

Amongst your other conquests.

                 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Owain Glyn