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my confession 

you placed your hand in mine
and gave your heart to me
asking only that i never let go
asking only that your heart be treasured

but the paths grew treacherous
and i dropped your hand
and i trod upon your fragile heart

with faith unwavering
you picked up your bruised heart
and returned it to my care

with tears overflowing
you tenderly laid your hand
back in mine

the tests grew numerous
and fail them i did
every one of them

frustrations, they grew
faith, it wavered
love was the only constant

a tiresome burden
shame, a constant companion
a reminder of my failings

the weight, it grew
as did the space between
and so, i walked

now, here i sit
writing this confession
to you, whom i love

* vishra scribbled on Monday, May 09, 2005 | |