Wash Me Clean

September 14, 2017

Rain wash down over me

and sing away my tears.

I walk alone on whispers,

fragile as faith confronted.


The tension reaching out,

with languid fingers of longing

grasping at my throat.

Conclusions never complying.


Prayers go unanswered

floating on a sea of doubt.

The litany of lust prevails

devouring the holy with the damned.


I beseech the ancient ones

to rescue my true self

and let the rain cleanse

my desires with its song.


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