Image credit: Antonio Guillem

Here I make prayers to broken stones
Where weeds are overgrowth, and old
Where footsteps have so seldom known
How blood is thick and ground is cold

A penitent pathetic at your feet
I have burnt out my very soul
There is no more, I am complete
A devastated, fragmented whole

Where old men weep I lay my head
Recalling touch both cold and plain
With death I make unquiet bed
Unholy, lost I must remain

And were it right I’d try instead
To make such wicked take the blame
But I am lost, and so instead
I take the vow, accept the name

(c) Helen Valentina 2015, All Rights Reserved