The Badlands

[mustithecure]

upon the damp bed of your fears, waiting for your

fumbling fingers to set me upright as your torch and solve the puzzle of us

beneath the lambency of trust reborn. What if I am the last match lit

for you until god come and take me home, but you snuff me out?

You snuff me out, wait in the dark,

deaf to my fluttering wings.

[annmackin]

Thank goodness you made sure to say it was a poem! Or I may have been a little freaked out by the whole "snuffed out" thing.

It is awesome, thanks for sharing!

[mustithecure]

What if I am in the Badlands? (a poem by Nordette ADAMS)

What if you and I are all there is for you and I am dying in The Badlands but

still a light sequestered in corners of your fettered heart, illuminating unclaimed

pieces of your soul that await my fumbling fingers to solve the puzzle

and glue whole an us. And the puzzle of your yearning is me burning out

here, broken angel, ...