The doors are locked.
Abject darkness all around.
I long to see the opened door.
I swim in this pool of nakedness.
We have hope in all our solitude.
That we can survive alone in wilderness.
In reality, our simple minds have no clue.
Sorrow does not care whether it is righteous.
I scorn all who offer their opinion.
I in my solitude,I have none to impress.
If only , there was an impression of me,
Upon your cold soul - less empty heart.
Spineless and false you creep thru my thoughts.
Clarity comes from letting go of the falsity of life.
Kindred spirits know well of what I refer.
Does not the Divine not have compassion.
Now I will take leave of my innocents ripped bare .
We make our own ignorance prevailed upon us.
Making us think we can survive alone in time.
Even alone we go on justifying our acts.
Those of us who are blessed in childhood.
Bring down a bit of heaven with us, I believe.
Childhood itself is scarcely more then a thought.
Of old age , pleasing illusions covered in mist.
It's raining in my soul, raining on a dead soul.
Rain is grace, there would be no life without rain.
In the darkness of the night , I see him there watching.
It's death again, absent from body, always on the clock.
Every time I pull the blinds , I spy him there in the trees.
Always there , always watching for us at deaths door.
Back to dust we return to Him, out of body, the spirit.
Returns to God, the one who gave it, life !!!
9:30am Tues. 3/ 5/ 2013
Copyright © Debbie Duncan