| Unknown Meanings Are Searched For In Your Soul |
| Unknown Meaning Your powerful passion surges through me, my heart skips a beat, I relent and relax, safe as I have never know before. The silence is a deamon, reserved for the dead, the long hearted fools who refuse, refuse to beleive in the faith of God. How kind your sorrow, as my mind disappears into the night, consumed by your madness, your delight, your desire. I know not how to stand on my own, without your arm to guide me, the path is dark and my legs weak and weary. I need your protection, your strength, your faith. I relent and pause again, unable to go one, unable to move, to speak, to yearn. You are my light in the darkness, in a form unknown, unsurpassed, unsupervised, unexpressed. The silence slices like a knife, I am left alone. But with your shadow, guarding. In all shapes and forms, comforting, keeping me safe. Unexpected devotions erupt from my soul, bright with the light of day. It is you and you alone. Dawn is at its breaking and I am beside its pillow, urging, yearning, controlling its arrival, as a master controls his flock. You are my safety and in my shadow, I see you. Protecting me, comforting me. |
| Committment Comittment. A word I once ran from, afraid of, I now long for, wish to cherish, to hold tight to my heart. Will I ever find it? Will It be real or a false hope, a false love, like so many times before? I feel myself, ready, willing, needing, that safety, that love, that committment. A truth not permitted to me now. I had it once and I have it now but in a form steps away. Will it come to me or now that I am ready, will it run and hide as I once did? |
| All poems Copyright 2000 |
| Outsider Looking In I stand here, feeling like an outsider, looking in these stain glass windows, someone has put their heart and soul into. I do not understand the feelings they have, the joy, the tears, the feelings of comfort. They sit, watching a reinactment, people they know, probably farther away from the truth than they realize, and they cry. Cry, for everything he has done for them, his death, his life, his blood to wash away their sins. I feel none of this, twinges at most. Am I wrong, am I damned? Will I understand or always be an outsider looking in? |
| Darkness Of My Soul I sit here in the darkness, the darkness of my soul, it surrounds me, comforts me, scares me. I struggle and try to break free, I fail and surrender, to weak, to ill to fight, so I will just give in. It's not the darkness of death or hatred or suffering, only the darkness of lonliness, a pain I know all to well. I thought I had broken free but I have failed, returned, to the darkness I once held near. The freedom of solitude is not what it appears. It stangles, chokes, weakens. So now I just wait, to break free or to fail into the ultimate darkness. |
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