Worship

There she goes

a hallowed teardrop hiding in darkened snow

I've seen it all before

Those hands are gold

hands numb and cold

The damned rise from the floor

broken souls to worship the light that she owns,

oceans of blood 

scarified in her name

Livened with a pulse this worship is release

those souls are broke, damned, the hearts of forgotten men

live in time

...

Falling in vain the price to pay for hope

those whispers breaking through echo in the morn

...

Mistress of the fallen

mistress of the damned

visions in the lake

they'll go falling in

for a taste

 of salvation or grace

Reviews

[Karmee]

Wow this is so good! Love the emotions. I really enjoyed your last stanza "Of salvation or grace" very poetic in their own words. Very well written.

[Peggy Olson]

Thank you! I'm really glad you enjoyed it.

[Edie Blue Starfish]

This reminds me of how we sometimes follow blindly and the places we are led to are not where we want to be.