The Light
The pot, where I kept so carefully, for so long, hidden, the light, has broken,
And pieces of clay, wrapped in pure gold, now shine scattered in the night.
The Light, finally free, has been divided into thousands and thousands of rays, into millions of whispers.
A splash of Grace dripped on my dirty head, and under the Light, for the first time clearly, I saw my guilt.
Copyright © Marius Alexandru | Year Posted 2020
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