Passing Regret
Dead winds blow through the
Old oak parlor door at night
Silently she screams
No one to hear her
Stifled, but desperate cry
She waits, hopes, and dreams
A sin, she's told to
Want for anything more than
Rough stone, wood and brass
Resolved, she watches
The sun die, to rise again
Through the old stained glass
Trapped in unselfish
And eternal devotion
Both, the cage and key
Lingering in what
Well might or might not have been
Dreams are hard to see
Vows uttered to God
With well meaning intention
The velvet-lined snare
She, with rosary
Held tight in her trembling hands
Buries all in prayer
Copyright © Christopher Thor Britt | Year Posted 2014
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