Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I suppose the Lord has spared me of my resistance to the inevitable death of life itself. 
Before I’ve even known it. And without me knowing it still. 
For it is not the final moment to which I have an aversion. 
Nor the pain, or proverbial “catastrophe”. 

But it is that of an inner wish, 
that has budded an unknown refuge.
Unknown to the thinking mind,
Well acquainted with the immortal soul.
A knowing that one will sit erect in the final wash of it all 
And be akin to that which remains 
Lucid