Transient

The intimate white,
it speaks to my desire.
I was once potrayed in such light;
tis' nimbus, it did burn like fire.
The (white) faces; chattering...a confabulation of their own.
I become an estranged one,
beyond what mortal men could condone
rendered a lowly plebian; I am done.

Viciously ripped from the direct fabrics,
of heaven purported full of grace;
its device a bloody rubric-
for eternity would never be replaced.
I walk as an oblique enigma,
as the colour tried to wane with time.
I felt the edges of heaven pulled; I couldn't wander far,
I could only sit, in an obscured field of rime.

Wisdom never grew so deep into me,
until I felt it crept outside.
I could never understand; I could only see.
Does one see tis' fright?
The white, the green and then the blue,
tis' hues but a transient phase?
I demand it back! I do
so much, want to recover tis' white days.

cuRRent...jer  ¶ 8:25 am