Burdens Of Depravity Poem by M A R K G O U L D

What have I become?
Where are the soft-lipped winds of precious youth?
Where are the serene hues of the bliss of naivety?
Oh, how I long for a mind free of chains of depravity!
My soul cries out in anguish
At the vexing darts of filthy indignation
How could it have come to this?
As the strength of my will fades
And my heavy eyes sink beyond hopes of starlight threads
I see the end
And welcome it
My weary soul is deprived of refreshing streams of hope
I restlessly search in vain for relief of my
Sovereign affliction
I am no holy one, simply a sinner
Who gave his all for the hope of seeing
The golden rays of your countenance
Oh, how my spirit thirsts for the ivory door to appear,
For the silver handle to turn!
That my eyes would behold your majesty
One more time
As my flesh fails
To the beckoning shadows
Seduction heckles my once strong soul
To deeds of reproachable damnation
When again will I hear the triumphant assurance
Of the cool springs of your voice?
Where then shall I place the fragile cords of my hope
If not in your holy hands?
Who then can stand before their maker
Look in awe at the aura of sun lit glory
See me cradled in burnished bronze palms
and ask
Why am I there?