you, with your forked tongue and
spirited convictions!
you, a patchwork portrait
of all that was, and will be!
you, with brooding smiles
and faithful heart.
you, the silence in the storm.

i wept beside you within
hand painted dollhouse walls,
arms wrapped 'round to quell
the inner sanctum.
it screams of the forthright,
bellows names of fallen comrades.

we walked upon feet of clay
into the New Jerusalem;
rode into Redemption
under the Banner of Faith, Hope, and Love.

(and there,
there we were bestowed our birthright.
there the thorns would become our Thrones.)

06/23/2004

Author's Note: i'm sick. i've lost my voice, my sanity, and the ability to write. so like, leave a message.

Posted on 06/24/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe