confess your beauty that isn't shown.
confess it like sin
reveal the unholy within that struggles for answer
show us the questions that we may hurt and not become numb
confide in us that which we'll never understand
send us your pain that we may revel in it like a soothing bath
speak to us of passion that goes unquenched and never shall be
for that was not its intent
tell us of the fire that burns so we may warm by its glow
take care my heart of sorrow and be a specter of such beauty
in your torment so as to blind the minds of the envious
Written by Scott Schoffstall
© December 12, 2010
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn
Puddles, rain collects
Tears from a despondent god
Drinking the silky silence of a fear
That is out of my reach and into your hands
My hands cup around the drops
And time stirs with the bitter
Then falls thru the cracks in my hands
Trickles past my parched lips
To lay fallow in my sentient bowels
I don't pretend to understand
Anything about this life, about what it's like to be a god
But there's something about drinking raindrops
That makes me realize, I know all I need to know
I'm wet now, soaked thru, bone-drenched
Saliferous flow irrigating the soul
Nourishing the movement for where it needs to grow
Here alone springs a garden from tears
Written by Scott Schoffstall
© December 1, 2010
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn
