Disdained by the pulpit, which satisfies the glory
of the bewilderment of the peasants that look onwards.
The beacon of sanity tells all but leaves no room for the
holy.
Wiped by the candle, of pride and vanity. A renewal that
set forth by the
stains of lenders from the temple.
this the marvel that dazzled by
the scrutiny of blood.
I may confess all things, wash them clean with your favor,
as the silence weeps for your mourning.
guilty of violence and fortification.
As I honor my lulled grace, but indeed it has revealed
the temperance of the doom. Alliance in which we found us
folly. Many have sullied, prayed in enlightenment, as we lent your
holiness, the spirit that is bestowed by your presence when I say, may
I am pardoned by your zealousness, as your prophecies have allowed me to befit the bolt of lightning.
Struck by the starvation and never to understand the fury of the unknown. Just like the sweet lullaby of the innocent. Roused by the souls, as the darkness
is shattered by the sacred matrimonial that is bestowed by the dear
the quietness of war.
The last unfortunate wish can only be refreshed, reinvigorated by the persuaded love, which reminds many of the diplomatic quests of an alliance.
Nothing can be withdrawn like the rare beauty that you possess, as intimacy has aroused our only desires, which captivate the only treasures we choose to cease at our demise.
Copyright © 2022 by Sherley Delia. All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 