(Phillipnes)

What do you think this poem is about?

Denial

Slender beams of radience
entered this darkened hall
as I kneel, always alone,
always sorrowful, frozing here waiting.
Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom
as dust dances in the air, forming an image in my mind,
searing my secret skin. Pain on a deathless face.
I raise my head now defying this impassive truth.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 19, 2009


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