The Prodigal Son Returns.

[apocalypticjay]

Wading through the black to the sea,
moments of pacification laying dead on the beach-
sand in my hair and sleep in my eyes
I return

Reaching past the sceptre of prominence
to hands of sincerity and ears of acceptance,
I walk no lonely path of pity or pain-
I return

Days I spent painting a picture of paradise
I so sadly burn the past for embers of brighter futures,
finding myself, durable and adaptable to my healing, so
I return

Although tears threaten to crack my pallid face
and leave me a broken porcelain fraud of worth,
I clasp what once was with what could be and feel my helm-
I have returned.

[Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com]

I'm glad you posted this here as well, Jay, I really think it's more appropriate. The Prodigal Son, truly, is welcomed home. *exalt*

[Harklight]

Thank goodness, Jay! Not only return but also, returned "home".

to hands of sincerity and ears of acceptance,
I walk no lonely path of pity or pain-
I clasp what once was with what could be and feel my helm-
I have returned.

A very emotional write, AJ. It brought a lump to the throat, which passed as I read on. Exalt! H x

[Artemis]

Jay you KNOW my feelings on this piece, and you know how much you mean to me, it's so good to have you back and it's just excellent to be working with you again. Much love, Kermit xxxxxx

[cinda]

I like how you write of having had a place of Prominence to
walking into acceptance. This piece moved me. Beautifully
done.