Wednesday, November 12, 2008


Blank-slated soul
Void of all emotions
Or perhaps, too many
Deep chasm of indifference
Alabaster, achromatic.
Blasé, discontent.

Here, only, in the crust of creation
I see most clearly
The whole of the land
Laid out before my feet
Your first blank canvas
Constructed flawlessly
Erected beautifully

Above, tiny pinpricks of light
The descendents promised
Further evidence of One greater
Stronger than my fears
Longing for my heart and soul
Loathing only of my doubt and misery

My future is your canvas of late.
Smooth and stark white.
I will remain.
Until your unwaveringly steady hand
Strokes a glorious picture,
Brilliantly hued.
Perfectly clear.

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