St John Paul ll
gently we measured
our compassionate realm
I was takened by the mental storm
of quiet gestures beckoning
the calm bayous the sinking earth
of hanging moss craving darkness
while seeking lights inner most hues
catered to the wild eyes of daintiness
and empty sorrows kindered between
a bias immortal sphere within thee eternal
wrath folded beyond di Vaticans core
beneath the rubble of solid structures
formed from masses of rotting flesh
and the bindery of soiled stained
souls of cold shattered existances
beyond the robe an awakening era
permitted silence among
the sheepcotes again
through a weakened weariness
reaching clawing clinging to a timeless cradle
a quickening naught of emptied virtue
while death had resided in me
underneath a slab of raw gravel
apon the holy see
Copyright © Yolanda Nicholsen | Year Posted 2011
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