PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You lie a little past my reach.  Each breath,
however, brings us closer to your death.
I will admit:  the effort of restraint
is difficult for me; and, sometimes, faint.
So long ago, you swept the stars out of
my night, and cast your pall across my morning:
on that day when my first and fragile love
chose to desire a mirrored lust, suborning
reason and nature.  And her pity, scorning
me, is a memory, contained, controlled,
and forced into a better---lasting---fold.
And you may squirm there, pent away, until
my death has left you, with this flesh, behind.
I feel you in there, but---thank God!---confined
by those firm words of Jesus, "Peace, be still!"
Saved, I will join Him, someday, in the sky.
I live for that; and, for that, you must die.

Starward
 
[jlc]