We sleep deep with eyes reflecting sudden drag in turmoil
We lament then run full circles in distant fantasy parked by its brevity
In sleepless nights frozen conclave we insist that we get our way;
Shapes of frightened cold unleashed sway;
Colors flourishing in ambiance tempered in modest excursion
A sworn agreeable text to lament in hot regard to its pierced claim
Shattered glass on its myraid surface with plot;
Sadness in hearts that swell in its loosened conclave of ivy dew
Drops of loom loose filled the room faltered glow
For the kingdom of God is at hand!
Through a choiced drama
Through a blaze of glory an almost different story!
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2012
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