Stained glass
The joys of life etched into coloured glass
Shatters into pieces as the demons pass
I lovingly, as heart releases
Bend to knees to pick up pieces
From anguish held so long
With caring hands I pick each shard
From barren ground of life so hard
The sharpened edges cut like blades
The pain less dire than bleak charades
I seek my will in song
Each chip reshaped within a dream
Each sliver casts specific theme
Broken pieces held together
By the will and loving tether
So beautiful with crafted care
The coloured light bestows fanfare
No simple craft is this we dare
But, resolute with flame and flair
The heart's phantasm filled
Stained glass as it is willed
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This is one of the poems that presents what I have tried to explain. I use my poetry to get out of the gloom, not to emphasize it. It took a lifetime but the gloom is beginning to have its way. I don't even know if it is worth fighting it any longer. I will say that I will always try but ...
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