I Simply Want Peace... Poem by Brett White

I simply want peace, even just a piece;
Because it feels to me every breath is diseased.
Each day waves and weaves with the one before it,
Yet inside the constant ocean's lament,
Lay my emotions torn asunder and rent.
And when I pray, oftentimes, I quietly repent,
For sins past, present, and for those to come;
This modest habit helps me to enjoy the sun,
Along with the grace of resplendent nature.
Otherwise, my troubled spirit would rupture...
Superficial woes are my sacrificial knife,
Whet and wedded, whose aim is to end my life.
Birds' cadences, though, ameloriate the pain,
Soothing the turbulence within my brain.
While sweet prayer, it helps, though I still feel lame,
Inside bluer than a Bunson burner's flame.
It never ends and with my peace it contends,
With a smile that mimetically pretends,
That all is well even though I am in hell,
Similar to an empty amorite's shell.