Forgivness
n the light of a silver moon,
I stand at the cliffs steep edge,
I remember all the hurt I’ve done
and the hurt that’s been done to me.
With tears sparkling on my lash
waiting for me to blink,
so that they can fall,
I try and cast my sins down into the sea.
I watch them as they fall,
hitting sharp rocks below,
They hit the side,
bouncing and getting bloodied and torn,
finally hitting the bottom.
The tide takes them out upon her foam
then she brings them right back to me.
I hear a fog horn through
shrouded mist
but for me it does not call.
The horn is to save a life.
No, it does not
echo for me at all.
My sins have washed back
on wet and sodden sand
so I climb down, weeping,
clawing at the rocks
to take my sins back into my hand.
What more can I say?
I try to rid myself of them
but they will not cast away.
I cry as I see the
lighthouse, and look upon it’s light.
Crying for forgivness.
Forgetting must come first ...
but forgetting
will not come
this night.
© 2005 a_bear
(All rights reserved)
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