He felt in himself the dying flames
Coming out of his sin morass…
Readily feeling pain of renewal
Knowing “this too will pass.”
–
Like a phoenix flaring up
Plunged into cold and annealed…
He must go through the process sure
To find his prospects healed.
–
Burned by self-lust,
Warming unto his soul…
Yet corrupting
Punching in him a hole.
–
Cleaning out Readers a part
Of reclaiming one’s heart….
Unto righteousness
From emptiness,
That deadly a la cart!
–
–Jonathan Caswell