© 2011 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
Sometimes I think I should have been a nun,
A simple sister telling beads and praying on her knees,
Estranged from life, from sun to setting sun,
A bride of Christ, protected, safe from dark and windswept seas.
Behind the veil, imprisoned in a cell,
My rage and lust for life contained within those cloistered walls,
No worldly taint to point the path to hell,
My senses filled with holy grace, immune to satyrs’ calls.
But in my heart I know this vision false,
A wish to obviate all choice, to abdicate my needs.
With outstretched arms I dance the Devil’s waltz,
And wear, vainglorious – instead of telling – all my beads.
© 2011 RC deWinter
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Featured in All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical
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