Her Swift Chariot I Await
From a swift wind may she return this night,
may the moon delight the path less traveled
and make mighty her heals;
for this tiny flower wan in her meadow,
where lightning rips the skeletal gloom,
(where she knows not which way to heaven) ---
but the Star which shines above forgotten tombs....
How I miss her warmth....
while the night pours melancholy
and the sky thunders forbidden secrets.....
For many a moon shall pass til I have her home;
where it is now all but empty.....
and the clock ticks not for time,
but a cruel, long wait, and ill tidings grin....
Have me faith while the devil licks his lips,
and throws sharp stones,
from a desolate deep dark;
She is mighty with me and I with She,
no death could give us part ---
no gate from hell to keep us apart;
with the strong arms of the Lord,
(her swift chariot I await)
*** A prayer and a plea that my girlfriend has a
swift recovery in the hospital***
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017
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