Tuesday 1 April 2014

Bitter Me

Bitter Me.

Mine not to feel hate,
Nor retribute crime.
Though at my approach the guilty do flee, me.

Not mine to just __ be,
Nor ever still, as lake on a spring mourn.
Or as last even's dusk before the dread of night.

But If you were to meet
All people
For just a moment- span-
Then I would you and you would me.

Neither staying long enough to acquaint.
But ever the bringer of a pivotal moment.

For destined are we,
Though you often forget.
In a given land and at a given time, you will meet me.

Mine to rip and sear,
To take you from a place you call home and your own.
To the one you forgot,
Whereby be your return.

When I come upon you
Then you will see me
And know that your time has come.

Until then my friend,
Remember.

That though we be destined.
How you choose to live,
Is how we will meet.
And then I will show you your place.

And do not pity me.
For by HIS grace
I will be freed and death will take me.

But not before
I take thee.




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