July 10, 1990

77. Savior

 With the eyes of a broken child
      I looked upon a life of somber verse,
 Brutally tossing me between hatred and favor,
      Wond’ring when I’d see a new sunrise.
 Faceless, pallid eyes called to my heart,
      A worthless paradox of life and death.
 Yet, into the darkness reached a frail hand
      And again I envisioned faceless eyes;
 No longer wan, these eyes were of the oceans, the sky,
      And atopped with golden strands.
 This hand reached to me and I took it
      As sure as I sit here with you.
 Darkness no more, revelation is mine
      In a heart I hold so dear - yours.

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