In the shadow of the steeple... [Triggers]

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by Wysteria Blue, Jan 9, 2013.

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  1. Wysteria Blue

    Wysteria Blue Well-Known Member

    Sometimes this forum brings me up, sometimes down, but you all always make me think...

    In The Shadow of the Steeple

    I walk alone… again, I pace the edges of this pond,
    In my mind the steps to darkness I constantly retrace,
    How did I become this dismal soul--the silent cry upon my lips,
    I seek the heat of a bigger star to lead me to my rightful place.

    In the shadow of the steeple, lies the place where I still remain,
    I’m told my soul is on the line as I persist, each and every day.
    Yet I stay there behind those empty marble tributes,
    And hide myself away, in what for now keeps the pain at bay.

    The answers to the questions that keep me up at night,
    heartbeat racing thoughts, at such a deadly pace,
    the things that paralyze me with fear and despair,
    is we’er I’ll be worthy… of his divining Grace.

    They say it is unmerited and free to anyone,
    who comes to Him on bended knee and seeks with open heart.
    In the end, the question really is, whether you are pure enough,
    through your own good deeds or the blood his son did part.

    I know my heart is fragile and my thoughts are so impure,
    I don’t know why he would care, if I make it through.
    The silence of the unhallowed grave is loud again tonight,
    Especially on ones like this, so cold and bitter blued.

    Is suicide indeed a sin that cannot be forgiven?
    Can God grant clemency to a pain crazed soul like me?
    There is no way to know for sure, save one,
    and dead men tell no tales, you see.

    My little bird has told me, that for Him this is a breeze,
    He chooses whether to heal me or let me continue to harm,
    He counts the blades of grass I see and knows my inner battles,
    or maybe on the other side, will I finally thrive, in His arms.

    A falling star shot cross the blue horizon tonight,
    A most wondrous sight or sign to me of hope.
    Showering the sky with a stream of sparkles bright,
    I wonder if God might finally be here, to bless or help me cope.

    The angels it is said, use the stars as a sign,
    To let the tear-stained masses know that He has arrived,
    But when he comes will he want to take me in?
    or will He turn his shoulder,
    …and just keep walking by.

    - mpk 01092013

  2. Professor_Spiff

    Professor_Spiff Well-Known Member

    You have the marks of a true poet, and your poetry is magnificent, well one friend
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