Image Credit: sondem/Shutterstock.com
For one moment of belief
I have bled
Forgetting all the oaths of foolish youth
I fall here
Before the crown of thorns
Till something new is born
Make of me a thief
Full of dread
Clinging to this mountain-face
So sheer
All that I’ve foresworn
Till something new is born
Honesty is grief
I am shed
Of clothing of a wilful child alone
Do you hear?
I come to pray, not to mourn
Till something new is born
( c) Helen Valentina 2018
helenvalentina 
Thoughtful and reflective Helen, well done.
Len Freeman
Thanks so much Len! 🙂
Enjoyed this, Helen.
Thanks John! 🙂
🙂