Looking For The Light

You seek forgiveness, but will not forgive, ask blessing, but are not contrite...praying unto mammon, and expecting all things good and right of it. 

You have nothing. 

Now, the eagle will not fly, but is molting like a pigeon...crows 'banging' into doors, looking for the light...and you wander, without souls and wonder, why...you sold them for a stony heart? 

In the middle of the night, you traded, on a prayer...to some damn 'thing', that cannot help you now...nor smile or comfort...yet, you cry for love...but, cannot define it.

Because, of truth, you never gave at all.


Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: six of crows, google pic