by Forest York
Alas! The sky sheds it's shivered skin, slinging the snow spiraling towards the slopes.
The night yawns with boredom, growing tired and weary. Oh, how the chill can reach to the inner man, clenching his heart, freezing his blood.
"How hast thou seen such beauty and remained remaining?
Hasn't thou seen the
Slayed in surrender to the Sky?"
Peaks of stars, slanted sideways like a solar scape, spread out long and heavy. I close my eyes, but still I see the stars, stabbed
through my sight, seeped
in behind the slim skin shelter the Savior set in stone for mankind.
"They slay me!"
How has the platform been set to startle even the snakes among sheep. "I know now that Thou sees the slightest movement of the soul,
but save me, Savior, for when my eyes are sealed, my sight is
set on a symbol of something sinister, something clouded, like
a sheeted ghost, sailing across the darkness of my mind.
Forgive when the sincerity of the secret sanctum of my soul
screams, searching for something other than the sweetest embrace
and softest sound I have known. Oh, Spirit, set me ablaze!
Last updated October 04, 2011