Every touch receptive,
senses heightened to
the pinnacle of love,
not alone now, but with
a predilection for faith,
hungry now, yet willing
to wait for the end of time,
without foresight, blindly
following a bruised heart,
calmness descends along
the brooding mind, as
her image arises again
up through the cataclysm,
shimmering in the
breast of black-winged
night, protecting the
innocents, and a man
who forgot how to
forgive himself,
yet still there is
promise,
the sun also rises
in the embrace of hope.
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