AriadeMezzoCarattere

To take another breath or forfeit life? The will I have not either to perform, Of many consequences both are rife and sorrows drown my rapture in a swarm. The only better path than living full is being free from all that tears us twain. Considerably much more disgraceful: Incarceration in a cask of pain. Such empty words proceed from impure heart, and empty eyes unfit to see the light. The better is to forget and depart and cleanse the world from this repulsive blight. Insulting is my heartbeat to the dead! What fruit was borne from this, my life now gone? My eyes cannot perceive the simple thread and cannot discern chess master from pawn.

Grayed wood along a dusty road, The leafless branches sweetly bode An evening chill in light supply - Ah, how I wish the sun were slowed. The silhouettes of starlings fly So silent in a pregnant sky; Cold stillness - hear the cawing crow As timber scrapes it's weakened sigh. How gently does the downy snow Reflect in iridescent glow! My speechless prayers briskly ascend, While, transient, I wait below. This fragile heart! It quickly rends; Yes, with the One who calls me friend, Eternity I'll gladly spend; Eternity I'll gladly spend.

My ruddy one, noble and fair, What strength found in vitality! You hold my heart deeply ensnared, your love is as the apple tree- Such patience, warmth and gentleness! For me, you've given up your life! Exemplary in selflessness, O to be worthy as your wife! Your ewe lamb is not spotless, though black like the old tents of Kedar, O wash me in the Word, and sow a harvest for the Lord unmarred. Remember Him who leads us still, Our garden will His rich love fill.

O Christ, so all my fountains are in Thee, though failure, like a corpse, is on me bound. I find this vessel rather unlikely yet on it is your gracious mercy crowned. I am no man; before Thee but a worm! Silent as the lamb approaching death, You I rejected, now my life affirmed; resuscitated me in dying breath! O God! To me: why does this carcass cling, why are my shortened days marked in defeat? How deeply, Lord, my heart could wish to sing of grace! But sorrow daily doth I eat. Obedience is all my soul shall seek, Beloved, be my strength, for I am weak.

Could ever songs refrain from cosmic old, before the man arose to pray and breathe, would angels sing in former aeons bold; primordial, did heaven's ballads seethe? Is absent a conception Zion's song? O Lord, doth music sound without surcease? As tapestry should weave it's story long, so glories wreathe in resonate increase. Yet silently slate darkness midday crept, when Christ's crowned head then bowed in mortal death. With whispers hushed, impoverished woeful wept; men hopelessly, three days, did hiss in breath. In judgement, jubilation swiftly drowns; in resolution, majesty resounds.