Burning on this pyre of many years I weave
my own lost mystery
We have too many deeds undone and too little history
to make any sense of you and me
We look to skies above to find
a god we lost so long ago
We shattered not in two but in many
So many that we cannot know, cannot know
I would lie willingly on altars old for one
true sight of spiritual majesty
This need is writhing in the very pit of me
From such desire yet be free
We seek promised, dark refining fire
Yet it is within the kernel grows
and in the one seed are so many more
So many that we cannot know, cannot know
My soul I know so well just like my ravaged skin
It bleeds beneath the face of me
Deep passion wars with cold sterility
Just what we do and what we see
Such lifetimes on the rack or flame
All ambition and belief overthrows
Too many lost to praise or name
So many that we cannot know, cannot know
Ā© Helen Valentina 2014, All Rights Reserved
Absolutely Stunning š
Thank you!! š š
“My soul I know so well just like my ravaged skin,” loved this.
Thanks John!! š š
I feel it the excact same way! And you just hit the bull’s eye… Thanks for this beautiful piece of art! Much love š
Thank you so much, that is very kind!! š
š
Wow Helen – that covers it!
Thanks so much!! š
Very beautiful Helen!
Thank you!! š
Outstanding work!
Thank you!! š š