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Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Ascended

The numbing, depleting...
Waiting for that pulse,
that rush that never comes.


The gasping, breathing...
Hoping despite the signs,
with futility pressing down.


The slipping, falling...
Finding lifeless surrounds,
sealed by unmet expectations.


Then, the ascension...
Leaving the noxious mess,
that assaults the soul made innocent.


Nothing can touch me...
Violence apprehended, discarded,
eliminated and forgotten.


Purity in white robes...
Standing cleansed and upright
engulfed within eternal brilliance.


 That's   My   View ~ þöë†þë†ë ~ ©2010 PLJohnson ~ Newcastle AU.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Lovely, poet. Thanks for the gift.

January 06, 2005 10:54 am  
Blogger poetpete said...

Rags and Laura, I am encouraged that you appreciated.
Thank you, PP

January 16, 2005 8:04 am  

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