crown

Whether by effort or
by natural grace,
you silenced an anxious thought

There is suffering which carves
a place in the heart for need
And there is suffering
which dulls the senses

Sometimes you were stark as a scream,
other times vague as a phantom
An ever-changing mystery,
shifting my emotions

Some things are gained
by losing others too dear to lose,
to one they are best lost to,
in a triumph
of faith undaunted

There is hope, which,
while pure and beautiful,
points helplessly
in the wrong direction



*unknown author*