Breaking Saints

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Stormy she was across my skies weeping gently in windy rains her eyes all clouded a muffled sigh over losses and empty gains, the road is far too long and the footing is at the least cupping gently the worn of light holding bay the headed beas...

Stormy she was across my skies

weeping gently in windy rains

her eyes all clouded a muffled sigh

over losses and empty gains,

the road is far too long

and the footing is at the least

cupping gently the worn of light

holding bay the headed beast,

clawing bushes and biting trees

each one a twisted cry

lashing at my wanderings

my struggles of laborious try,

but the colors and array of sounds

the enticing of the fray

a marvel to behold

where hearts lean in to stray,

and again the bitter battle pangs

this narrow through the maze

endure is weighted by the mete

heavy soul in glories pace.

 

- CULTIVATE

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