I'm stuck in between the fear of drifting away from You,
Lest I freeze of the cold
And not wanting to get too close to You,
Lest You burn off my clothes
Ridding me of these rags
But leaving me exposed
My flaws to be seen
My weaknesses to be known
But, even so I know
That all I need is to hear Your voice
Thundering in the realms above
And carrying me through the eye of the storm
Distractions are lies
Everything alike is vain
For all they ever do is numb down the pain
Never once bothering in taking it all away
YOU ARE READING
Clay
PoetryA collection of poems flowing like a river from a heart made of clay, as it groans while being molded and when fired, screams in pain; yet rests in the knowledge that the Potter's handiwork will certainly be great.
