Wrought This War


I wrought this war inside of me
so how could I cry out
for relief or reprieve when I chose to befriend doubt?
I let the storm in as if the sun was a threat disguised
and I was saving myself from disappointment—faith’s demise
How is it I anticipated to be one with belief
when I fell into the void of thinking of what was to be no more?
On myself I wrought this war
You gave enough and then gave more
What could still your heart so suddenly?
You are sullen in your questions as if they had no answers
apart from those that would lead to unavoidable disaster…
I wrought this war inside of me
so how could I cry out
for relief or reprieve when I chose to befriend doubt?
There is no heart but the one I refuse
the truth of spirit in me
that will show me how to rest my bones, resist this persistent madness
surrender before the battle cry fades to a void voice of blackness;
in a final, lasting sadness…
Carrie Gilbert 2014
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