Wednesday, December 6, 2006

Spritual Atrophy

Dark desolation, full of pain.
The light within me fades slowly like blood draining from a wound.
My ability to love others lessens as fall folds into winter.
Chaos governs my mind with its wicked cruelty.

I have killed. I have destroyed.
With my two hands I have tainted the endless spring of white hot grace.
But now it flows with blood that stains white.
I am saved but buy a gilded thread; amber with the setting suns reflection.


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