In Shambles I Weep

Pure joy to know that He sees me through till the very end

In shambles I weep,

Taking in the reality of life

Time is an illusion 

Of withering and pain

An ensemble of memories

The lyrics in the dark

Playing over and over

Dimming away the bold

Until the candle nears its end

And the weaver is bored

As one takes his last leap

Whether of faith or by glory

Everyone chooses the light

The silver arrow of might

He sits on a bright throne

His Angels flying high above

A state of grace 

Of blissful eternity

How am I worthy

Of the words He utters to me,

“Hush now my child,

You are home.”

Author's Note

photo not mine

Reviews

[sette]

i like the poem, it describes the phases in life a person undergoes or experience. nice writing.

[Markus Anthony]

Thank you for this review I really appreciate it :)

[barleygirl]

This is a beautiful word-portrait of exactly how I envision my own life, as I wander thru the early stages of old age! *wink! wink!* After chasing all the false attractions all those years, now I understand the true beauty of being alive isn't about all that "stuff"! You've put it into graceful words, stating an everyday truth of living & growing older. Love the originality of your writing, even as you express very relatable sentiments! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie