De-throned,
I sit amid my splintered life;
Convulsed in misery, repulsed at strife
That
tears, distorts, and damages my goods,
My
blood, my name, as nothing ever should.
I, who
had promised always to remain;
To cover
with my life, to ease the pain
The
world might bring, to be the priest
And
savior of my brood and ask the least,
Found
now in agony, no toys upon my floor,
No arms
outstretched, no tiny voice, no more
The
welcome sweetness of my purest son
To greet
me as he's always done.
These
fragments never more shall know
The
unity, the oneness of my soul.
Hell
appears inviting when I see
The
agonizing silence awaiting me.
I never
knew each cell could suffer so.
I never
dreamed that like a vapor go
The
lives I cared for -- cherished --loved
And
dedicated to the Lord above.
A
thousand devil-demons taunt me now
And jeer
because I don't know how
To live
again or even just begin.
I feel
so vile within.
Un-Father's Day, I've heard before
Of men
like me who've suffered more.
I never
understood, 'til now,
The
lethal agony of broken vows.
God, if
You're there,
I pray
You'll answer every prayer
Of men
like me. We're so alone and we
Feel
prayers are garbled messages
Of
futility.
by Joan
Clifton Costner
Copyrighted. All rights reserved.
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My Dreams
For My Mother
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