Heaven Shunned
Slender beams of
accusation enter
this darkened place
as I kneel,
always lost,
always forlorn,
frozen here,
waiting.
Angelic forms wrought
in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
sparing not my
naked outstretched arms.
Realization dawning on my face.
I raise my head,
now kneeling before
this airy salvation.
Copyright © Therese Schmidt | Year Posted 2012
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