Walkin on Air

Sacrificial Grace

Unbearable pain I caused myself
 made my life go wrong:
 shapes my broken heart to fit her broken love
 given from Heaven; it now despairs in Hell
 of flaming jealousy lit by my infidelity.
  
 Our daughter omits childhood.
 Who was I to betray their trust?
 Every minute, every hour feels the same,
 I can get no relief!
 Every one of my blessings whittle away in guilt:
 gone as wood-chips to the wind;
 I gave them pain instead of love.
  
 Who ever won an argument, or a fight?
 I kiss the head and hold the hands of our child
 imagining it's her mother's face and body,
 but all I see is the epitaph on the gravestone of our love:
 ‘The sweet savor remains to taunt; she is gone!'
  
 Her faith I deceived like dust to the breeze;
 we roam into stunted futures
 squatting on the curb of life
 watching time pass by,
 wafted on sensuous memories of satisfaction.
  
 I know what I did, but why I cannot tell:
 what I did, I did in depth of Torture
 from lost direction and purpose;
 what is sacrifice? Is it to let love bleed
 into the emptiness of cold hearts?
  
 How to come back from the fire of jealousy
 to once again quaff the showers of happiness?
 Is her love depleted and cannot forgive,
 must I live with the death of love?
  
 Could I but change time and go back…
 Yet, it is the future that counts:
 what I do today might it make a difference?
 Sacrificing my pride and just asking her to forgive
 do I have enough warmth of desire to do?
  
 Would I survive on the leftover residue
 of her rose-petal  skin and sunrise smile?
 Scintillating traces of touch exhilarate
 agonizing flashbacks that ravage
 my synaptic groundreality,
 is that what I sacrificed; was it but gratification
 or worse: happiness in old age
 to share with family?


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Sacrificial Grace

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