Sonnet 8 - A Resurrection of Sorts

Imprisoned in my personal darkness -
mute, cold, forgotten by those most truly
loved, my legacy a vision much less
than clear - I surrendered just as surely

as though I had left hearth and hold by choice.
Bold lies and fury were all I loved well.
A writer writes. I could find no true voice
to speak with, no new story I could tell.

To one so long denied beauty, your face
appeared to me holy. Your eyes spoke of
healing too long withheld. You held such grace
so gracefully, I felt mercy and love

might yet be mine. Bright hope, too, you restored.
Like Lazarus, you saved me with a word.


Rayne_y_Daze’s challenge words: lies, vision, fury, imprisoned, forgotten, denied, restored