to ease up, be kind to my soul.
As sure as I see the sun rise each day
No escape relinquishes itself to know.
Absent peace, how I dream of a tempered heart
among many illusions to me.
My body, full of imperfections
This mind twisted and arrayed.
Seldom do I find much peace at night.
In my chosen bed of thorns
upon which I lay.
Not even those simple miracles
blue skies, a child's curious ways,
how lightning shatters a stormy blaze,
and the beating of a broken heart
much is lost on me, I'm not amazed.
--Diva
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