The Temple Vein

I abandoned my ability to write once in pursuit of love. I left behind my identity with my scripture. I call upon what I did again and promise to never leave them again.

Look at your temples buried,

Figures meant to immortalize a feeble promise of protection within.

As you led your creed astray to pursue sweet beloveds, one heart falling before the other,

These walls aged in downing seconds to beads of sorrow.

Your temples, near forgotten,

They've wailed in breaths for the blessing, a faith to arise from hopes downtrodden,

As you led your creed into foreign arms so distant, they melded into disbelief for comfort.

They've cried too long, young destruction, for your scribe to ignore.

Temples, dear sanctuary,

I kneel before your remnants to manifest, one pebble laid before the solitary other,

A breed of a whole blood to lead this morose creed from bedlam.

Perhaps these withered hands can resurrect the faith.

Love your temples, home within homes,

It is turn for your merits to be drawn into the papyrus bandage.

Bleed your sins into sacrificial urns if you must, but dread not on the life to share.

Perhaps direction is ambivalent, perhaps it is I; either vein, the temple sanctuary not be dismissed again.