All I feel is weightless.
Lost in all translation.
Stuck in golden shackles
of endless abdications.
So let me fall from glory.
And into you solace.
Let me yearn for refuge.
Let me yearn for grace.
For I am but a captive
of one too many crimes.
I seek of vindication.
Make me your divine.
Chase away my heartaches.
Shelter me from harm.
Let my spirit slumber
in peace and gentle warmth.
featured art by Martina Francone
Sparkles and Poetry 