The Holy Virgin
The Holy Virgin
The time has…has come the time of death,
The death of my life, death of my breath,
Death of all but one…death of one but all,
Yet into the void for death I shall call.
It is near but death itself is nearer,
For all those who shall not be cheerer,
Death was the love I called upon into the world,
It was love that trembled as my death built a new world.
A new world with one less,
A new world with a greater mess,
For death of one is death of all,
Still into the void, My love for death I shall call.
‘Cause there is none like death
And none like death can take my breath.
For I was me and me alone,
And I was mine and mine own.
‘Cause there is none like me-
None as different…and not one so free.
Death was all I had ever known,
From when I as a seed into the earth was sown,
To the skies I reached out yet grew not,
Higher than all I was yet was so merely short.
I knew not what I wanted,
But I knew that what I was gifted,
But I knew not what I had to do,
But I knew very well what to do.
Behind bars I had threw mine soul and heart,
But not my mind which was my delicate art,
‘Cause that was all I had,
It was merry yet sad,
‘Cause I was far from all, I severed myself,
Yet my love was not for myself,
Unfathomable was my love for love,
Yet I hid it all up in a cove.
But I did what I did,
For I was me and not some other silly did.
I told them not when they told I was wrong;
When they told I was bad I told I was wrong,
For I knew my action,
Yet lost was the proper reaction.
Sins were mine, sins to all,
Sins were mine but mine sins not all.
Robbed by death I was of all but one,
One was my mind- the special one.
For my mind was mine and mine alone,
Amidst all it sparkled and shone,
For death touched it not as what it was it knew not,
Yet of that it never forgot,
For it was the only that was beleft,
When death made love to earth and none was left,
Because when all was gone,
Left was the different one,
When gone was the origin,
Left behind was my mind – The Holy Virgin.
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Comments about this poem (The Holy Virgin by James Green )
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- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
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- If, Rudyard Kipling
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