This is what i did when i should have been learning about Henry VII in history class...
Conscience quells the beating of her faith
And all the reasons why these
Feelings that she’s feeling aren’t real.
Patience tears the meaning from her sin,
And all the sparks inside her skin,
Are searing truths within a dream.
Wisdom drains the darkness from her eyes,
And all the soot in all the skies,
Is falling on her prayers and pleas.
The blossoms on the footpath spiral in the shape of infinity
And she walks away.
D.P.
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