I plan to lament, to pity-party, to languish-unapologetic-like, the daylong, in regret and angst.
When dawn of some new era calls, I’ll hear it’s hearken, I’ll know it’s finally time I arise from the rain and fog.
‘Til that day, you’re cursed, Mountain, you’re soul-sold, Hollow, you’re a kind woman’s Relic and Shame.
As you were my Knight
Unable to speak the truth
You’ve been my mourning
I have been to lavender fields on what you might call
“A great day.”
Oh that the flowers would have told me,
“Love buds not with him — come fast away!”
He’ll not pray that you sit
He’ll not fight the good fight
He’ll not be by your side ‘til the end
You’re the bride and the groom
You’re your own epic bloom
You’re your bravest and loving best friend
Sometimes you’re certain
Signs say it’s safe to surface
Should they lie, survive
Have you gotten lost
In the way a person’s lips move
As their certain eyes betray the world‘s lies
As they speak on what is absolute
On what is true
Truly good
Beautiful, absolutely
As they share the epic story
Do you see reflecting from their intent gaze upon the author of history
God?
LisaRosier.com 