Brittle stars lay beneath my breast
Will solace only follow my final rest?
Beyond closed eyes a river flows
Yet my facade of gleaming glass
awaits passively the caw of the ebony crow.
silently (one?) waits,
silently fear rapes,
my soul, oh God my soul.
Why, why, a soul did you bestow
unbearable weighted with guilt and foe
this foe, whom i dare not confront
when he glares back with
beady, blitzed eyes when I look into any such mirror.
for it is I, and if it should die,
would not I die as well?
thirsting for a hope, where hope does not dwell.
for it tears, gnawing to the surface
boldly, purposely laughing as I bend a knee
to thy sovereignty in any of your churches
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