Friday, July 6, 2007


A wakeful grandeur to toss in tonight,
But, to when does this pleasing picture endure?
Cannot still handle my beating guilt,
Does the night air cure a lonely aching heart?

Escaping view of my inner plight,
Finding your sylvan grace of forgiveness further ahead,
Gleeful resuscitation that thrives on single sight,
How a convulsive cold chill you warmed mellow mature.

I know not why my past I dread,
Just feeling the in and out of layered past,
Keep me, a trinket, that used to line your bed,
Lofty airs I now have none to cast.

Many a dusk, you drew out in to dawn,
Never a tinge of blame or curse you let me feel,
Only a pining sense of silence and love stillborn,
Pleasing play of bygone halts my insane reel.

Quieter than ever, I, a defeated thing,
Rueful to all but you, my saviour bright,
Sinking your healing words in to my soul,
To raise my sense of hollow existence.

Unless I give in to your calm and pensive embrace,
Vivid joy I am rendered incapable of,
Why I am so important to you,
Explanations cannot be found.

Yet, the faith that colours your forgiveness,
Zealously I guard, as you breathe in to me,
A new life.

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