Exile

The fallacy endows me with that trace of earth
a mock to seal exile - a curse.
This cover-up of worth, this fault proclaim 
a life fulfilled with bartering, its lies sustain.

Injustice stands, as if a temple's feign
did sanction it, and then some truth's remain,
-was edging, put together, solaced fame,
a win unto itself, its own acclaim.

This clearing of the way, one other's gain,
without the fairness stay, without explain.
This thievery called "mine", is all but shame,
the stronger of the line, o'er takes the reign.

And that belonging's lost is grace in vain,
that beauty with its cost can find no wane
to ease its own heart, tossed and filled with blame,
from fighting for its own, consigned to strain.

God bring my mind to thought, in thee restrain
this exile of emboss, this cursed complain.
This raising from remorse by thy love sane,
so purging from accost can build thy name.

An equities enforce, our own faith's same,
is love between, a course, God's asking plain!
An equities' enforce, our own faith's same,
is love between, a course - God's asking, plain.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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