Cunneda

Friday, December 9, 2011

Hold My Hand




So many dangers, Lord;
Shadows, well mounted,
On the high rocks
Of doubt and fear;
The beguiling gowns
Of temptation;
And the galling scorpion
Of indulged lust;
At all points,
The cold brush
Of the evil one,
Chills to the bone:
Hold my hand, tightly,
As we cross
This hollow land.

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