As air anoints my brow with dew,
And pining groans into the sky,
A world of pain within my head,
This longing aches that all be new,
An earnest prayer lags to a "why?"
Oh Thou.
This lavish loveliness all about,
Such beauty breaks into my soul,
And tearing eyes stare at the sun,
My quiet sigh rises to a shout,
Incongruous beauty enacts a toll,
My praying tears before the one,
To thee.
Yet in these times, all seems lost.
Sons and daughters cast to the Baals,
The meaning of persons — eclipsed.
As ozone and sprites bear the cost,
Love and dust like weight on scales,
Such anomie–vertigo in betwixt,
'Ah me.
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