The heart is vulnerable
To care -
It is not sex
That makes the heart
Aware
That there
Is recompense
For loneliness
Athwart despair.
Fond is caress
Cell that's sore
In the core
Of being,
Of living,
On this earth,
And in the heart
Of you,
And me.
Feel its balm.
Ignore alarm
Of consequently.
Beware
That's all we hear
Of our hearts.
God, deliver us
From the thrust
Of pain
That festers
In the trust
That we
Can over throw
The shroud
Thrown over us
By evolving
Life
That would Destroy
Our sense,
And reason d'etre
Which is
Hope for sincerity
If not for holiness.
Let us
Ever open be
To the call
That ever
Beckons us
To join the
Drama of
The gang
Of is to be.
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