YOUR NAME IS IN MY HANDWRITING
I have made the image of you,
I took it and made it mine own.
Your essence filtered through my view
Your old scent, but not your cologne.
I never liked the way you wrote.
Heavy heathen handwriting
Hedonist mind through spoken quote,
That will leave the body writhing
And render the soul in shivers,
Out of fear or love I don’t know
My lip continues to quiver.
And then you strike the final blow.
I find myself brought to my knees,
Though my posture is of prayer,
The cross is barren and empty,
And I find you no longer there.