a book was born
a book was born of some cold heartconceived in love (or love perceived)
but love conceived was not born
for righteous doubt took hold
aborted love song was delivered
stillborn, premature
abandoned on a doorstep
left behind
fled from
for the wise flee youthful desires
that part of me is dead now
i know of no other way to tell you
i left
i killed
with premeditated intention
i am guilty and pleased to be so
a book was born of some soft heart
conceived in hope (a hope forgotten)
and was abandoned
waiting to be found
discovered, yes
accepted, no
a clear line drawn
not in shifting sand but
stone
for this is war
a war of souls
and i will win
for I AM loved
posted by Trisha @ 6:51 PM
