Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always silent, always a slave,
frozen here,
waiting.

Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
searing my darkened soul.

A reflection on a lover's face.

I raise my head, now kneeling before
this uncaring Heaven.