Resurrected Temple; A Holy Relic

 

My world should be burning...

  Yet all I can think about 

         is You. 

Biting tongues, a forefront of gardens 

   and livelihoods

Gone completely ablaze in cold hue

   Yet all I can think about...

          is You. 

The balancing act lost threshold. 

  The trauma having shut down and scattered my brain. 

    Yet is was the only thought of you, 

All year long...

  That got me through my pain. 

Every moment bruised 

   By your absence....

A thick in the air that will not go away. 

  It hurts being loved by a man....

(When you've already given your heart away. ) 

  

  I suppose we lent it to him...

     for a while

But it is a treasure he would deeply forsake. 

  Returning it home.... it didn't so much fit, 

So back in your hands, it was placed. 

  I suppose it would go, 

I have no need of it anymore, 

  It is an ancient relic, 

Better to usurp and shelve 

  

Petrified thus, 

  I render in now, your keepsake. 

What use of it have I anymore? 

  You know just how I feel. 

My strength is weakened, a very real war 

  Hour by the minute revealed. 

I walk not on hollowed ground 

   But Holy is my field. 

Yet what can I muster up....

   Used at every angle. 

What use is a heart anymore 

  If the world ignores its seal? 

and on days like this, 

  I'd retire my wings....

   Go "home" in the flash of a second...

But as it would seem, 

  God is not done with me...

So in my cross, I brand the seal, 

  and I polish up this relic. 

Weary is 

  The woman's soul...

An Angel's well in disguise. 

  I have not the heart for this life...

  It's refusals nor it's lies. 

 

Taken under, 

  By every touch stolen...

The Devil still steals my space. 

  Without anything left to give...

I wonder why still, he lingers about this place?

The last light perhaps 

  Of a Fae snuffed out...

A sacrifice that bellows through the ethers...

  Perhaps that is what 

His presence is about...

 While I hail to God as my keeper. 

What use is a soul, 

  If not the heart to have...

Or the light he seeks to snuff? 

  I guess the Devil can fight for the rest, 

But without the heart, it will never be enough. 

  In your hands, 

  A consecrated terrain...

  A place he can never reach. 

For I have given it over in the Holiest of Spells...

  Pure Love, a body that can not be breached.

So while I wither, 

  Feign away and fray...

At least I know it's safe. 

  If he is my soul to take...

This relic now yours alone. 

  A haven and now Sacred Place.