All hours wound, the last kills

eternity

I long
to read
poetry and verse
in a holy place,
to know the peace,
and beauty,
of exalted heights.
To refresh my spirit
and drink in
all that my soul
could sustain.

I would give freely
all that I am
to the one
who would show me
eternity.


honour

What is honour
but a gift
a man
gives to himself.
It is his core,
that is never exposed.
All his sight,
and inner vision,
comes from it.
It is all
that stands between
the light,
and the
unfathomable darkness

I forever
hear it's voice
in my heart,
and it keeps
me true.

Honour
is like steel,
it is hardened
by constant use.

I have
put mine
to disuse,
from time to time,
and cut myself
with the dullness
of it's edge,
and I have seen
the darkness,
gaining ground.


despair

How can my heart
endure this.
There are
no words
for what
I truly feel,
and if they
came to me
it would be
as a tempest
that would surely
wash what is left
of me away.

Who are you?
Where did you come from?

How can I
reach out for something
I can never
hold on to.

Take me back
to the place
where you found me,
and leave me
as you found me,
looking for water
in a sea
of despair.

I still look for you
in all the places
my soul lingers,
but I find
no peace.