Will I ever know will it ever show.
Can anyone break thru deeper.
In time the angel comes for me.
I sense the convergence nearing.
Wait for the pull, contemplating departing.
Beckoning gestures call to me in pulses pristine.
The scalpels have cut deep into flesh and spirit.
Wounded promise no longer holds its course.
A preference to a presence of a ghost.
Hauntingly clear in antecedence bonds unbroken.
It was not me or mine but my folly home to roost.
Others who came before me hold the sway of the heart.
Just a spoke in the great turning wheel, desires repulsed.
Hope that was willing me to stay, now has taken leave.
Towards the angel, alone I am ready and steady.