Field of Glass

Field of Glass

Eminent life, so rapid its pass. He treads upon a field of glass. The glass, broken, slices tribulation, asses his weaknesses and prods temptation. Just a man, albeit the pain, forthright he strides and strives to gain, passage aboard the absolution train.

Conceding reckless, thoughtless deeds, he’s sewn imprudent, fickle seeds. Forlorn, an act of social severance, he integrates his blood in reverence. Judgment passes and penance is paid. Inept was this masquerade his life portrayed.

The shards are now worn and the suffering, lost. Rebuke and admonishment befalls a righteous cost. This past he left, to never leave; knowledge gained a path received. In the midst of faith, sacrament pass, deliverance spared him from the field of glass.

~ Rebecca Moore ~