Running through the brightness in my soul, I’m writing a sonnet I long to know.
Abruptly it collapses and I fall down the hole.
Swallowed into the blackness, the curator of pain,
My heart struggles insolently and calls out Her name:
Love! Spirit! Beauty! Strength!
They pump through my veins, they mark Her infinite name.
And I cry for protection as I drown in the spilled red.
This is my darkness, this is my pain.
This is my soul, tortured and slain.
I’m running toward life, but further she strays.
My fingers grasp, but empty soul, tear and fray.
Lord I pray that She stays.
I cry out Her name as rain misconstrues Her frame.
But no matter the angle they split,
Her beauty remains the same.
My heart comes and my heart goes.
Trapped in a prism of anguish, I stare.
The darkness now swallows Her whole.
I run toward life, but further she goes.
My soul has been vanquished,
It no longer glows.
And as I continue down its eternal tunnel,
its compendium into shadow,
I pray:
Please God, don’t let her go.
