‘He who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered’
                                                   - George Meredith
      
In the solemn silence of the cathedral
Close to the 'sanctum sanctorum'
Away from the din of the world
I sat in prayer for hours

In deep adoration as I sat with eyes closed
Envisioning Him at the inmost shrine of my heart
I sensed His living touch all over my body
The one without form lifted me in His arms

Like a child clinging to a caring father
I opened my heart before Him
Placed my life’s burdens at His feet
Asked for gifts my frail hands could hold!

Coming out, relieved and enriched
At the gate I was greeted by a beggar
Dressed in rags, his hair lying wildly matted
With sores in his body, he looked a piteous sight

In his outstretched hands was a begging bowl
His lips were pleading in silence
From my bounty, I gave him something
And saw the glitter in his hazy eyes

Can I ever discriminate him
When we both do the same thing
While he begs before me outside the shrine
I beg before the Lord inside the shrine!

And in the midst
of all my insecurities,

today

I experienced a moment of bliss

I saw pure specks of warm, cool life,
hovering in the air

and I felt the warm wind brush against my hair,
with every step I took resounding within me

and they blocked the despising glares
tuned out the sorrowfulness in my heart,

laid down
a worn, sturdy, gentle path to guide me as I walk

and whenever I get lost trying to find others,

I can follow the clusters of twinkling stars in the night sky above
back to path of where I found myself,

because I had never been lost.

We never thought to think this

but, looking for someone who you can never be
is not being lost,

it's letting yourself lose
who you really are.

And life is too much of a gift
to drown yourself in others' sorrow and call it your own,

now it feels so free
to just be who you really are.

If Sleep and Death be truly one,
  And every spirit's folded bloom
  Thro' all its intervital gloom
In some long trance should slumber on;

Unconscious of the sliding hour,
  Bare of the body, might it last,
  And silent traces of the past
Be all the colour of the flower:

So then were nothing lost to man;
  So that still garden of the souls
  In many a figured leaf enrolls
The total world since life began;

And love will last as pure and whole
  As when he loved me here in Time,
  And at the spiritual prime
Rewaken with the dawning soul.

It’s only been two days
But it’s true, I miss you
I tell myself it’s just a faze
To stop myself from feeling blue
but spring has never felt colder
My bed's never felt so empty
Now, all I can do is wait for summer
To bask in your warmth and all your beauty

Wastes of space, we the scapegrace, blank expressions, poker face.

You're my ace, ahead in the race, they're second place, a futile chase.

Stakes growing higher like an untamed fire, their inevitable pyre, situations dire.

Those who were bold, i watched their hands fold, those who seemed braver, i watched as they waivered, as they fretted and regretted, i watched their faces fall, like a delicate house of cards, gingerly balanced, standing tall.

But i have nout to fear, for my secret ace is here, hidden up my sleeve, to which i dearly cleave, they all want to believe, as losing's what they fear, but losing's all they'll get, while my secret ace is near.

Blurry finds a place to close her eyes.
Head swells up with a demons lies.
Drowsy stops when the evil dies.
Body loosens up and begins its rise.

I'm broken.
I'm alone.
I'm nobody's token,
I'm a dog without a bone.

Two broken souls will find each other,
Hang on for life,
And find their lover.
But there will always be strife.

If broken recognizes broken,
And I am alone,
Will there be a time when,
I find my broken clone?

There's nobody around.
Is he someone I've already met?
Or have I just not found
Someone as broken as me yet?