Adoration's Price
Of lavish love the poets write
to whom their love bestow
But what of love
and what it's like
to be the one who is adored?
I've known this staggered heart
an adoration one yields divine
and of this sacred sacrament took part
then retreated from its faith like mine
Once, before illusions of protection
veiled by confident speech
crumbled wholly thou innocent projection
of the visions it had seen
Showered with waters sweetened earnest
till it's naked wells drank tears like rain
yet the soul of the one who's heart was burnished
now reflected fear that must flee all impression of pain
An object of worship at the core
'twas meant for The Lord on high
of men and angels a gift explored
for the imperfect begs the question of why?
And yet once loved with adoration
furnished with a reverence meant for God
what hope remains to know raptures imitation
but for the masquerade of a clever facade?
Perhaps this explains why poets express
extravagant love only given
such devotion transgress's the love it profess's
and this prison is a high price for the wisdom
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