Some nights I lie awake
dreaming of a woman
who could make me want
to want to live another day
another year or maybe
just an hour or two
until dawn wraps her warm
arms around me once again.

This way dear child, Christ's feet leads the way, today tis cloudy; though the morrow won't be the same. Betimes young light, thine tears shalt be dried, don't look in
Satan's mirrors, I made thee as mine
Own, a creation of what's right.

This way young woman, Christ's hand's direct the path, collecting thy droplets
In water buckets, thine soul wilt
Forever last.

This way mine kóri, none need for any frowns, I made thee for mine glory, I'm
Here in ups and downs. For when thou
Dost crieth to sleep on many night's,
I've been right there with thee, for God
Protects his own as God is light.

Close thy lids forsooth I shalt say,
Tomorrow wilt be much brighter,
When I make the darkness go
Away. The heaven's wilt
Depart, and daughter
I'll call thy name,
Never let thy
Candle smoulder,
For I shalt reignite that flame.


© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poet's poetry