By the Storm (Nevertheless)

I want to be the thunder of your rain,

the great, heaving indifference that breaks you

into submission to the Kingdom,

an elegant agony

floundered only if the fire

is not wet and threatened

by the Storm.

 

Love, you cannot quench

desire, but you can curb your eyes

to see only great Light in the beacon

that arrests and kills all darkness,

that is lightning harnessed indefinitely,

that is the wrack of the Heavens,

whip of rage delivered

into my hands, in your embrace

salvaged at last, a wrecking wreckage

forgiven

nevertheless.

10/20/2016

Vancouver

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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2018

atazargarof@gmail.com

BC, Canada