To my final rest

I shiver to the longing days

as night becomes the vessel

capsules among the falling rain

moments caught in wrestle,

as my days come to there closing

and I see the corner turning

I wish to look upon them all

the weeping and discerning,

perhaps to rest in the sweetness

from the torments ruffling spread

the cooing sounds of glory

at the hand of he who bled.

3 Replies to “To my final rest”

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