My Work

Pursued through the haunted
corridors of my perception;
longing to embrace Him,
desperate to expire.
Knowing all He wanted,
was pieces of reflection;
and so I kneel to place them
at the feet of Forbidden Fire.
And still I reach to grasp the hem
that reeks of ancient smoke;
Righteous Indignation,
has some time to kill.
Unseen fingers singe my skin,
scars of shame are torn,
in conscience degradation,
I hear,”Just be still.”
Tears surrender to this Light,
that dries them one more time.
I am cursed with rendered sight,
but, my love was born…blind.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

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