My Spiritual Arsonist

4 Comments

Tags:
  • Hope
  • ,
  • Pain
  • ,
  • Death

    My Spiritual Arsonist

    I think it was around the time my mamma died
    I tore my clothes away and cried and cried and cried
    I shook the bed, convulsing, side to side
    I finally drifted into tortured dreams to hide

    My inner soul began to chill, no fire
    My heart forgot to beat, and tired
    My face grew long, my eyes looked dark and wired
    My brain mulled through black thoughts that death had sired

    You somehow knew, you called to dry my tears
    You came to me, you have through all the years
    Your comforting my heart to melt my fears
    You seem to know the time agony nears

    Then my spiritual arsonist , hero of my soul
    The light inside rekindles, lights, and glows
    The heart of me remembers songs of old
    The life came back into my eyes, like gold

    My Spiritual Arsonist, the hero of my soul.

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    WordSlinger commented on My Spiritual Arsonist

    10-13-2010

    I like this, and I love the title, thank you, John E WordSlinger

    wheelsal commented on My Spiritual Arsonist

    08-20-2009

    You captured this for all who have and will experience this. Nice write. Sally

    jademelissa74 commented on My Spiritual Arsonist

    08-20-2009

    Simply beautiful. This is such an inspirational piece. You offer so much heart and soul. Thank you for sharing this with us.

    Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

    Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

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    My Spiritual Arsonist 4
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    Shedding a Tear 1
    untitled 1978 0
    KINETIC CATERWAULLING 0
    untitled February, 1982 1
    DREAMING 1
    HEALING WATERS 0
    June Until November - Five Months to Remember 2
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