Longing as for Breath

This potent love,
Striking true like a glove,
Into my heart,
Piercing to the lungs like a dart,
Driving out the stale air,
Of selfish care,
And apathy,
Leaving me,
Gasping with longing,
That I might bring,
In deep a breath anew,
A breath seasoned with you,
I long for a breath,
Like one trapped beneath the depth,
Of the sea,
Swimming up to be free,
I long to draw a breath deep,
So much my soul does nearly weep,
A breath of your sweet love,
Just inches above,
I long to pull myself to you,
And drink deeply in all I do,
Of your love, and expire,
Back my deep affection dire,
You are my souls burning fire,
Burning my unloving shadow in the pyre,
Built of my old self,
Of the boards, once composing closet shelf,
Let me breath once more,
Let me draw up to the shore,
And let me kiss the sweet sands,
On these precious lands,
Which are called Love, and Affection.
You who are my hearts only selection,
You, fair maiden of perfection,
To whom I write this reflection,
I long for your love more than air,
For your touch, more than care,
For your smile,
Than for all the wealth ever sent upon the nile,
For a respite,
From the dark of night,
Through the warmth of your touch,
But for now life is such,
That we must wait,
And I hold and trust to fate,
That God will let us draw breath once more,
Together on that distant shore,
In lands called Love and Affection,
Our marriage, blessed of God, to perfection.
I will wait,
For God's will and His chosen fate.

I Long and Will Wait

I long for that day,
When none can say,
We act without propriety,
When you are with me,
I long for that moment,
When in bliss heaven sent,
When we before the Lord,
Make our pact to be of one accord,
For we have avowed our love,
Before each other and God above,
But on that day,
We will also say,
Those avowals before men,
That none may call our actions sin,
I long for that so,
As only our two hearts can know,
And I will wait for you,
As long, my love, as I have to.

Fire Blossom

You are the blossom of fire,
In my hearts to sire,
The kindling light of love,
You melted the ice,
With your compassions so nice,
Gentle as a dove,
You taught me to care,
Reincarnating love there,
As only a daughter from above,
Could possible,
And set my heart free,
You are the incarnation of Love.

Soul Condition

This festering disease,
Within my soul,
Gnawing maggots,
And putridity abounds.
Souring soul ichor like cheese,
Tainting heart to black coal,
Wrenching my guts,
Tearing loose guttural sounds.

A symptom of culture,
Teaming with pestilence,
Spilling forth its taint,
In an unceasing flow.
Turning temple into sepulcher,
Shrieked obscenities replace silence,
And calling sinners holy saints,
The symptoms this disease show.

This retched affliction,
Which is but self-imposed,
Warring within every cell,
Every chamber of my heart,
It is a self-wrought diction,
Making permanently reposed,
My spirit since the day I fell,
Willingly upon Temptations dart.

I deserve nothing,
But the sharp stinging,
Following the Ringing,
Of the Reaper’s Swing.
For I slew my heart’s King,
And stripped Him of His ring,
Crowning the very thing,
That can only destruction bring.

But there is a panacea yet,
To douse my affliction,
And cleanse my heart,
That I might continue to be,
For my soul is yet wick and wet,
Fire yet flickering despite condition,
Lend me, Great Physician, your art,
And make me strong and free.