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A song I sing of wilted roses, Scrawny shrubs and halitoses, Lonely hermits in the dim Such as holy Seraphim* Looking for a lucky sign, Kind, empathic and benign Searching every secret grove Every garland, every cove Dusk to dusk, the midnight dims Pale as Reaper, ever-grim. Frightened on my journey right Down through misty, eerie blight. Troubled, on my way from home, To your loving arms I come. Hear me, Isi, hear my plea Suffer thou to rescue me!
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Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 1:11 AM UTC
A song I Sing of Wilted Roses.
A song I sing of wilted roses, Scrawny shrubs and halitoses, Lonely hermits in the dim Such as holy Seraphim* Looking for a lucky sign, Kind, empathic and benign Searching every secret grove Every garland, every cove Dusk to dusk, the midnight dims Pale as Reaper, ever-grim. Frightened on my journey right Down through misty, eerie blight. Troubled, on my way from home, To your loving arms I come. Hear me, Isi, hear my plea Suffer thou to rescue me!
* Seraphim refers to Saint Seraphim of Sarov (1754-1833), one of the most renowned Russian saints in the Eastern Orthodox Church.
dr_giallio
Written by
19/M/Ormoc City, Leyte, PH
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 1:11 AM UTC
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