Monday, 3 February 2014

The Immaculate Hurdle

I shall breach the realm that, for me was not destined

So that I needn’t curse my mettle,

I shall hunt the prey that lurks out,

To feed the insatiability, it knows no bound

So that it shall not burn my self from me.

Might be forgotten, all is perceived

There is HE who is almighty, but power he has given

Ways may seem evil, forbidden it is not.

Belief and hope, stripped and tainted

Comforted and tortured, soul and urge

Humility is uncanny, inappropriate it is not.

The darkness comforts, as the sky to the hawk

It treads the falling path, as if its wings mock,

Failure is a fact, giving up is not.

Reap the hope and the pain too,

The haunted one I am, the toy on fingers

Heavens do no judgment, reason there is none

Gaze up at the moon, till its stories be told,

Till the wind all around me, still blows cold.

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