words fall empty silent
pained into the altar fires
life without You
an unbearable cross to bear
ash is smeared across my forehead
but not just for Lent
now I wear the tattered rags and carry the begging bowl of Shiva
even the crematory dust of my bones
shiver in the hereafter
for one blessed whisper from the lips of
my beloved
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
words fall empty silent
pained into the altar fires
life without You
an unbearable cross to bear
ash is smeared across my forehead
but not just for Lent
now I wear the tattered rags and carry the begging bowl of Shiva
even the crematory dust of my bones
shiver in the hereafter
for one blessed whisper from the lips of
my beloved
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