The Deserted Sanctuary

For a thirty day season,
the tears flow freely -
like a river.
Glistening pools of submission
gathered through realisation,
Realisation through confession,
Confession as a result of reflection.
Reflections illuminating the chamber;
Revealing rust and emptiness.
Thus the river flows -
from the lips to the heart,
Making a home in the sanctuary,
Accepting the invitation,
for now... 


S.A