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To Waken…briefly

February 24, 2012

Work to do, always more.

My Mind’s toil is never done.

Night, my time, and day as well

Inundated with work, both Moon and sun.

 —

Yet tonight my Soul overrides my Mind,

Crying tears of Blood, as it does so oft.

Beseeching tendrils of poetic voice

To carry my true Heart on Silver wings aloft.

 —

Night, my truest friend and foe

Holds me once again in Her forgiving embrace.

Hiding from my Inner Eye

My whitest sin and hidden disgrace.

 —

But the Circle must be completed,

A price paid for each brief respite.

Loneliness, self imposed or not, is mine

For the peace brought on by Lady Night.

 —

Without those parts of myself

That drive me to invert my hate within

Would I be that which my Lord so despises?

A god of my own making, my own idol of my own sin.

 —

I cannot know and I cannot say

For that Path is hidden from my Inner Eye.

But is it possible that that which drives my pain

Is also that which will allow my eyes to Heaven espy?

 —

And upon completion of this verbose voyage

Of honeyed words of Soulful decree,

The bindings of my Heart are loosed

And once again Words have set me free……

 —

                ….for a time.

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From → Poetry

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