The Miracle

The Miracle

I sit alone in darkness

and all I see is ink stained black

as it swirls and twirls around me

like a shroud upon my back.

Lost in forlorn misery,

all I know right now is pain,

from all of my life's surrenders,

which slowly drive me insane.

Drowning in a torrential downpour

of tears shed for my plight,

in slow motion I am falling,

because I can not breach the night.

And to ease this painful burden,

which weighs forever upon my chest,

a blade of ritual splendor used

to cut away the pain that I must wrest.

Starved and often beaten,

and used by many more,

I huddle in the darkest corner,

as I sit upon an ashen floor.

And in this dark surrender,

as I wait upon my fate,

I cry out for heaven's bounty,

which may come much to late.

For I am lost to men who stand

and walk in the light of day,

and bound to a bleak twilight,

which whispers, "You can not get away."

So here I sit upon a soot covered floor,

withering away, slowly, into a husk,

a forgotten remnant unseen...unnoticed,

as I fade away with the dusk.

There is naught for me unto this world,

but the gentle surrender of eternity's kiss,

where in I lay me down to rest,

in death's embrace of infinite bliss.

So still I wait in quietude,

unmoving from my place,

as time entices me forward

into the land of eternal waste.

But suddenly a light appears,

luminescing upon my grave-cloths,

piercing through the enveloping veil,

of darkness woven of my woes.

It stands before me beckoning,

harkening me back to the living land,

where hope resides in plenty,

within every flesh and mortal hand.

And in abject confusion,

tears stream down from my eyes,

upon the burgeoning realization,

my wishes were not lies.

My prayers, whispered in hopelessness,

in the belief they went unheard,

were suddenly somehow answered,

without hearing a single word.

For there within that light,

was a promise written in stone,

one which transforms the molten heart,

as it whispers, "You are not alone."

And upon that day of surrender,

where I fell endlessly into the night,

a gentle hand taught me to remember,

that hope is ever within my sight,

if I choose to see

and open myself to it's love,

for it comes upon the wings

of the tenderest of eternal doves.

It stands in earnest patience,

as the ocean churns and beats upon the shore,

whether I turn to acknowledge its presence,

alone I am....never more.