a very poor homage to ms. dickinson


i own my bones

When thoughts of dread mortality about my mind do roam
And love's deceitful touch promises eternity

I own my bones and mine alone.
Yours are wholly yours and lonely yours alone.

When the Father speaks of mercy and our heavenly home
And of a loving God who requires my humility

I own my bones and mine alone.
Yours are wholly yours and lonely yours alone.

When at last Death rides in upon a cold wind blown
And through a black vacancy does usher me

I'll own my bones and mine alone.
Yours are wholly yours and lonely yours alone.




Poetry by halfjack
Read 829 times
Written on 2014-02-23 at 04:15

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