The Stone Institute

Not the Last

The Time of the Holy is Upon us.
Stars Shine in the Night to Announce the Sacred has Returned.
Solitary Leaves desperately Cling to Barren Branches.
Clouds bring Joy as they Dance across the Sky.
Lights adorn the Trees and Shrubs along the Waysides.
Birds scavenge for Seeds and Dried fruit.
Squirrels Scurry in the Tree Tops.
Not all is Bright and Shiny.
There are Those who Feel it's the Season of Terror.
Demons from the Past creep into their Consciousness.
They cannot Sleep for they Fear the
Coming of Tomorrow's Light.
A Primeval Contamination of a Unique Unhappiness and Agony
Circulates through Their Bloodstream.
Every Cell Shakes in Anxiety.
The Worry of the Season Sears their Skin.
To Unwrap a Present Tortures their Being.
Ardor does not Exist in the Halls of Desolation.
The Vine of Misery roots in the
Soil of the Vulnerable.
The Undefended cannot Rise Above the Battle.
Their Spirit confuses Agony for Fondness.
Tenderness is Mere Torture.
Affection is Poison to their Psyche.
Doubt is the Weapon of the Wicked.
My Tenderness will Soothe your Wounds.
My Warmth will Quiet your Storm.
My Caress will Ease your Suffering.
My Devotion will Restore your Trust.
My Love will Rejuvenate your Soul.
Someday You will Enjoy the Season of the Holy.
The Darkness will Leave You.
All will be Bright and Shiny for the First Time.
And Not The Last.
Kevin S. "Kiki" Merigian© December 2016
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