[poem]

They were once one,
Those tragic three -
who's shattering
Is rent above
The earth to see.

An equal pact,
Or so it goes.
The flaming heart,
The chilly mind,
the blood that flows.

It couldn't last.
These things, they dont.
The heart, she loves
The mind - so calm!
Of course, he knows.

Yet he thinks: blood.
Blood takes my ills
And brings my needs.
For him, great love
Means wants fulfilled.

That ceaseless surge
Cares not for brains.
It yearns and flows
For pulse and power,
Heat and flames.

It aches to love
without requite.
And thus they split
And bore the sky,
The day, the night.

Hot heart takes day.
Cool mind takes night.
And blood is spilt
Across it all
To tell their plight.