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Virtuous Woman

Virtuous Woman

I stand in the darkness of my own creation
wraith unbound
It is that my eyes were aflame
with all that I may consume

The cold, the heat, the island ye even death
that which uncomforts a man
are the allies of my unchaste heart
beating with the blood of the forsaken

Oh that the dust of such as I does linger
held by the lunacy of the earth
toiled in unrepentant vengeance
of that surpassed recoil insane

Who there could take the hand?

Where witches have worshipped
Where the Harlot of mankind took note
When the children of the darkness did call
Establishing the Reign of my Indignity!

For I felt them all
turning the stomach of my spiritual consumption
Set under foot
Speaking my name

Indeed it was my abomination
Without presence of light
but for a dream
of The Virtuous Woman

True it is that Her heart did restore my own
True it is that her love did humble my storm
True it is that her soul did light my darkness
True it is that her spirit did awaken my faith

For in this world of our own creations
down that very pit where this man’s face reflects in all
my faithlessness
did bring forth destruction
Until she appeared

I am as a broken arrow made straight
Set upon the target of my former will
Returned to the child
remembered by the mind

And who better in my humble tears
than she who radiates in the virtue unseen by any other?
And who better in my knelt prayers of thanks
than she who found comfort in my arms?
And who better in my unworthy heart
than she who carried the remants of my forgotten soul?

Who else could remember me as I was
than she who had not met me
until before, and far after
knowing one day would be our crossing again?

Even I had just that last spark
of her dream
Oh how I begged the heavens for forgivenss
Oh how I turned away
just to hear the voice of the Virtuous Woman

Such is a thing with truth
for in it is not any untruth
nor shadow of former things

Such is a thing when love is given
for in it is light and beauty and grace
without any lost faith for the fallen

Such is a thing when one holds a flame
for with it restores the dark chambers
of they who had become blind

Virtue does not cast out Virtue
It casts away the stones of the heart
It casts away the curse of the enemy
It casts away the fear, the freight, the inconsolable man

For hell is a Glass Prison
Broken apart by all things undeterred
Brought to Peace
Handed over to the Caring Creator
By the courage and patience
of the Virtuous Woman

Ryan o0o

 

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+Ryan-Ranney – +Ranney-Studios

Image provided by Colleen Ranney
All Rights Reserved

By | 2017-08-22T00:27:09+00:00 October 26th, 2016|Intimate Poetry|

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