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The Hooks

A single hook pulls but one way
To a single doom by a single wound
Or it tears away, a permanent pain
Exchanged for a freedom that’s new.

But multiple hooks (two, three, or more)
Pull together the force of a terrible choice:
Acceptance of them or a gaping hole
That can close but never return the loss.

Or those same hooks can pull apart:
Tearing or tugging however they choose,
A storm of forces that fight and shred
Follow one, fight another, again, again, and again,
Until one or the other, flesh or forces, lies dead.

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