Saving Love
The ghosts of past misdemeanours haunt me
chaining me to misery and greed,
a grotesque whispering of witless guilt
that stifles the sublime of the soul.
Damned demons howl around me,
frolicking in a deadly dance,
trying to put an incision on my brow :
“This miscreant belongs to us.”
The night grows nasty and terrifying,
wolves wail a woeful weeping song,
abominable bats blast off sucking blood,
and putrid smells block my nostrils with decay.
Suddenly a wayward wind dispels the clouds,
stars shine brightly up above.
A full moon shines through darkened trees,
a ray of mercy envelops my soul.
Hope lights my suffering soul.
I remember my mother's advice.
God created you to love and be loved.
Who can love me? I ask.
Why He who created me....and you!
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