PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i never dreamed of love though prayed that it would find me, amid the quietude above and its solemnity dividing. number the sum of wrong impressions, count my sins and ill transgressions, but it will serve you little justice, for my hunger remains unsated. alas, the night goes calmly on, to bear the faults that to the day belong. no matter, sorrow is a minuscule thing, a chemical imbalance in my scar riddled brain. i ask: am i so broken? so diseased? that i am unworthy of a moment's reprieve? or is it a vendetta of chance, which found me vulnerable? an easy pray. i asked God, but, He wouldn't say. so i sit here in silence as my words drift away...