Monday, June 29, 2009

Meaningless (the lament of the athiests wife)

dusk settles on your sun browned hands, washing them from sight,
eyes stormy gray and ocean blue, gleam in the failing light,
your chest is still, and not a single breath escapes your lips,
frequently the breeze will stir you with her fingertips,
the shadows playing with your features bring you back to life,
It seems that you are smiling, for a moment it's alright,
they creep away and leave you dead, a corpse, so still, so warm,
and all my love and all my life, lie empty in my arms,
the heart I poured my life into, no longer beats for me,
the hands you poured your soul into hold naught but memories.
Time has stopped for you forever, yet still drags me along,
my life is empty, meaningless, with you forever gone.

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Jesus is Lord!