How arrogant would it be
For me to ask you to
Grant me a beautiful death.
If I am taken to
heaven or hell
Before living a beautiful life
"He delights in me and all that I do,"
Can I try to delight you a little longer?
Can i get a chance to try yet again
To rebuild and this time be stronger
Perhaps write my all, every story I can
And reap the glory only after I'm gone.
Is my death to come at a time just decided,
Or have you already a date set in stone
I know neither the day nor the hour
I can only pray when that time comes
Everything I had to do that truly mattered would not have been left undone
Will you lend me your infinite patience, for my mother now has next to none
Will you allow me to rebuild your temple? And make it a better, more glorious one?
Will you grant me a long life, or will it be short, by your will, or as a consequence of my inaction.
I'll have killed myself with my past indifference, even after deciding to live,
Would a letter and prayer hold more weight when held in the secret place of the heart versus public for all to see.
YOU ARE READING
painted poet
ПоэзияWhat memories give me grief or gratitude, Tempts my firey attitude, comes to my mind In the wee hours of night Or of the mornings first blinking light, The second edition to my collection of fragments, pulled together like bits of stained glass, ...
