Come See Her.

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on October 25, 2009 0 Comments

Come see her, crucified by her loves.
The nightjars sing for her bloodied robes
And the owls hoot their despair.

Touch her hands, those broken wings,
Feel her feet, the open sores,
And, seeing the moon half undone,

Watch her eyes burn with the pain.
Hold her head, no thorns, but madness,
And kiss her lips that speak no words.

About the Author ()

A man who seeks truth and friendship and hopes for abetter world.

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