“Love” – The Feeling

…naught but dust.

Smouldering, O fruit of married spark and withered branches,
Flickering, like sunrise born anew, life’s breath pervading,
Vehement, to frigid limbs and hearts thy warmth imparting,
Ardour, O inflaming of the blood, O sanest madness:

Life’s breath steals away; the embers’ light to mortal pallor fades,
Leaving naught but dust.

Words to a Weary Soul

“Come forth, venturing the narrow way;
Let nothing hold you.
I shall wait.”

Turn not, tread in spite of mist and dark,
this thorn-strewn way;
Bleed, bare your heart.



Hold me, lest I crumble, turn to dust!
Your light, so distant…

Quavering.


“Fear not, let me see the wounds, the tears,
Your dolours, sorrows;
I will soothe.”

Forward, braving night, and wind and rain,
Burn, love again,
Arise,

“Beloved.”