Heaven Shunned
Slender beams of
accusation enter
this darkened church
as I kneel,
Always sorrowful,
Always a slave,
Frozen here,
waiting.
Angelic forms
wrought in panes of
glass loom,
As dust dances in
the air,
Forming an image in
my mind,
Searing my naked
soul.
Realization dawning
on an angels face.
I raise my head,
Now kneeling before
this uncaring fate.
Copyright © Daquan Bowrin | Year Posted 2014
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