Array ( [sid] => 141337 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => why do I trust? [time] => 2008-04-03 13:08:26 [hometext] => [bodytext] => why do I trust?
why do I kneel
at the altar of pain?
yet alone I can't heal.
I feel the sensation
of time standing still. . .
still, others gather
not so unlike me,
our failings akin.
but the likeness
blurs steady
at the edge of our sin.
how time interfers
with the causual flaw.
if left unaddressed
it raises momentum,
will gradually gnaw
at the seam of a being,
'til undone & unseen
our tendencies harm us
& obscure the meaning
of any decision
we're left to confront.
outside of convention
inside of complex,
the error we grow
with tears strong
warm & wet.
while the meaning of this
we attempt to accept,
a binding of cynicism
forms our neglect. . .
where is the tribunal?
the arbitrary fold?
& what of Gods' kinship
we long to behold?
cautious near bedlam,
'til innocense grows old.
our understanding
careless, the pride
of what throne?
no matter
at inclusive
we feel so alone.
no matter
the wisdom we sanction
as our soul. . .
my hand is an instrument,
my word, harmony.
balance, my willingness
to honestly seek.
pleasure, my witness
of lifes' sweetest dream.
melody, my loving.
silence. . .
Gods' love in between. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 230 [topic] => 73 [informant] => elle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract ) Your Poetry Dot Com - why do I trust?


why do I trust?
Date: Thursday, 3rd April 2008 @ 01:08:26 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: elle
why do I trust?
why do I kneel
at the altar of pain?
yet alone I can't heal.
I feel the sensation
of time standing still. . .
still, others gather
not so unlike me,
our failings akin.
but the likeness
blurs steady
at the edge of our sin.
how time interfers
with the causual flaw.
if left unaddressed
it raises momentum,
will gradually gnaw
at the seam of a being,
'til undone & unseen
our tendencies harm us
& obscure the meaning
of any decision
we're left to confront.
outside of convention
inside of complex,
the error we grow
with tears strong
warm & wet.
while the meaning of this
we attempt to accept,
a binding of cynicism
forms our neglect. . .
where is the tribunal?
the arbitrary fold?
& what of Gods' kinship
we long to behold?
cautious near bedlam,
'til innocense grows old.
our understanding
careless, the pride
of what throne?
no matter
at inclusive
we feel so alone.
no matter
the wisdom we sanction
as our soul. . .
my hand is an instrument,
my word, harmony.
balance, my willingness
to honestly seek.
pleasure, my witness
of lifes' sweetest dream.
melody, my loving.
silence. . .
Gods' love in between.

This poem is Copyright © elle


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