In the fading distance there I see
A place for you, for me
Here beneath my feet stone cold regret
Rising storm, rising threat
Bitter is the path, bitter there the end
Where cloven hearts descend
From stumbling dark and wounded sky
Risen angels stoop to die.
At first breath, was it too late
To steal from greedy fate
The chance to live, the means to love,
To someday rise above
Broken dreams and scattered peace
Find hatred’s dark surcease?
When the rising storm has passed
Across cold waters vast,
And in its wake leaves blood and death,
Final shuddering breath,
What safe harbor will I see,
You, waiting there for me?

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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