Sonnet 5 – I gathered up the thread of my whole life

I gathered up the thread of my whole life
To weave a cloth from all that I have seen
A fabric made of one who has survived
And never one more beautiful had been

I dyed this sacred cloth with simple blood
And stitched a garment made for gods and kings
Then from the night emerged the one who would
Take ownership yet have no need of things

As cloak slipped over shoulders bare and bone
Forgotten strength returned to this poor child
Who found himself seated upon this throne
A captive king whose soul was running wild

From then no more a prisoner was me
But rather god of everything I see

 

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