A world of Queens
To me it seems God only died for them For man alone Is Satan's clone A purposeless boredom Her presence is What’s healing him Without her he is sin When she believes What he receives Ecstasy grows within But more than naught Her heart is caught In doubts about her love She cannot see Her dignity Because she does not trust Her purity Can part the sea That she is drowning in Theophany The sound of she For Heaven beckoning Lest men forget The garden yet Is past his present reach Defeat the beast Release the streets And set the virgins free Thank God that sight What eyes call right Pales next to Revelation What limits us From routes that rough Death doors to destination She loves her men She takes them in And drain her life they could This bitter test Will bless her yet Her heart beats for priesthood The rock upsets The world’s request To kill the feminine Since man alone Can be that stone Her need inspires him She is the flock The Lord bequeath “Simon, feed my sheep” Crown of the earth The home and hearth Kneeling before his feet She finds her bliss The heated kiss From Eucharistic hands As growth is art The time departs Hearts celibate in bands
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December 2019
AuthorCole Anson Augustine Viscichini Categories |