Standing outside heaven’s curtain
Restless in sight of heavens grasp
In the basement of the dark of night
It is consolation I seek at last
Midst the tumbling tiny sparks of light
I wear my mask, I am cold and alone
No expectations of undeserved grace
Lost in my denial, I’ve lost my soul
Mountains sway underneath my feet
Composed of jittering grains of sand
Fiction writes my final obituary
As I shiver, comforted in loving hands
~Mark Schutter ©2014
This poem was written in response to the Wordle Me This #2 prompt on the Reverie Journal where each word above in bold italics was used from the list. to be transparent I did leave out two of the words … oh well!
So what do you expect?
