were ever I
the last to bow
the last to lift my face
let not your truth
or love disgraced
for a future
built on sorrows
– this cross
a resting place
for all we’ve yet
of your grace
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
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