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Showing posts from November, 2007

Author's Choice

Barren, He named me.
With dirt, dressed me up.
Set my heart in frailty
My mind in chaos
Shaped my structure to decay and rot
Directed my fallen state
and continued His art
Made sure to diminish the vessel He bought.
Merit unable to justify my soul
I am miserable, nothing, and wretched.
He is the author
He wrote this terrible novel
I, as the critic, assert.
He the only justified critic who stands in awe of His work.

Her Dark Night

Dark
Night became exclusively pleasant.
Not lovely for another.
This night was for her distinguishable soul.

Was the air sweet or the moon romantic
Was it serene and accepting
Blissful or enchanted

Not this night.
For all men can own such verse.
This night was specific,
a telling of her grieving soul.
She related to the night song.
Nature's color became her explanation.
Draped around her
Was a similar atmosphere to the one developed inside her.
It was black, silent, and dead.
She owned the night.
Creation, a testimony of her experience.
Not for another.

Chance

How expensive a chance is.
How desperate a moment of decision.
The power given to a partner to hold another
or leave one lonely.
But what a power a chance can withhold.
A hope burning in the unknown.