descry

08/2013

There is this glory

in sadness

that I'm addicted to

It embraces me

in a way that

only sorrow can

I take refuge

in what remains

of my reality

These torn skies,

this broken ground

crestfallen, I am comforted

Perhaps I'm picking up

on something more, 

an omnipresence 

A safety net of sorts

amidst my way down,

or maybe I am without