A Lonely Hunter

I am weary of a heart abandoned
And left to dwell in the wastelands,
A barren domain, a lifeless censer,
An empire built of silent sands.
I am weary of a heart in passion,
Tossed and torn in a tumult of tears
Shed in a fever of desperate
Desire, a fervor built of fears.
I am weary of a heart made joyless,
Despairing, rebellious, and proud;
Lacking orient, a pearl stripped of luster,
Left to weave an untimely shroud.
Give me a heart of breathless awe,
That from stars would new vision draw.

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This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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