Confession

Thee, my Lord
to make unto Love;
Not for me
the booth and the father
to absolve the sins against
my Heart.
Nor yet the fasting
and the feasting
of Reckoning Day.
Nay but the loneliness
in my breast to speak
my crimes
in a voice plaintively clear.

False love,
unfaithful,
centered self
against You;
forgotten
verbotens,
broken vows
made in heart if not speech.
Ignoring,
not close-wound,
not coming home
to You.
These my transgressions
against Love.

Would that I too could shed
this self, take on the visage
of another,
one who will not hurt,
will not wound, will not
sway in my love’s affections;
oh fickle fidelity,
cruel are you to my Heart,
and the waters of my life
cry against you.

Hear my heart’s cry,
do not forsake
this faithless me;
though I stray again,
though I sway again,
though I crave again,
You are my life
and my soul,
oh my Lord.

(c) Nicanthiel Hræfnhild 2009

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