In Thy Arms

Clay cloak clotted soul in
Is sacrament enough for thee;
Who cannot see heart wood
For twisted towering trees;

Sun will one day sink
Below shivering saline shore;
Upon sacrificial day shalt ride swift;
Waves astride life no more.

Candle shalt know at spluttering last
ghoul guttered starvation flame;
Shalt burn no more to revealith perfections
Drunken burning hot life refrain;

Through every pore such beauty flows
Pours forth blinding quivering light;
Suffused could it only be, in cool
Shadow embracing satin black night.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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