Forlorn in demeanor,
Thyself with heart in tatters
Solemn and beseeched,
I\'m near the edge
Of loves rapturous foreboding precipice.
Shall my torturous soul
Commit it’s self to the abyssal unknowns
Of sacrificial acquiescence to thee?
A force neither trustworthy nor forgiving;
As it warms chilled hearts
And sooths with passionate death
Unwitting those of lesser toils within
True to their salvation,
But blind to its deceit
And give reverence to thee.
Alas shall I not gaze into eyes of splendor
Nor taste passion upon sweet lips
Forsake the essence of purity sought,
And forgo righteous happenings within thy being?
To this unknown I ponder
And thus negates my apotheosis of thee.
Enlighten my sorrowful remnants of gaiety
And subservient obedience to thee
As was once remembered.
At this I shall take that leap of faith
And boldly plunge thyself into the depths
Of your infinite sanctity.