The faux lights of my life went out and never

Returned. Now I feel cleansed with lenses

Uninfected with shrill gossip blaspheming

Into my vulnerable heart. Once believing 

I had to go along. I did, and that's

On me. Forgive this, my better loved ones 

Always faithful and patiently awaiting 

My growing up late into this lifespan where

I kneel to thank a hidden presence guiding

My learning that foes do not a healing make. 

The fugue of pushover inclination 

Once doused with holy liquid of hot springs

Dry bathing my skin with an abrupt brash 

Sacrament to smooth the brittle surfaces