Used to Be
Nov 1 · 1 min read
For a moment there, you blinded them
With your unfettered confidence
Although that light was the merest hint
At the thousand suns of the blessing
That you cherished so dearly.
Nothing had ever been more sure, more real
Than that faith
Relegated now to the coldest prison
Beneath your shrine of consciousness.
Sometimes this inmate remembers
That the toothpick bars of its cell
break all too easily
And makes its escape only to be held close
For a while
By the very warden who had sealed it away
Rather halfheartedly, for half
Was all
That had remained.
