Nescio Me

Make me unknown to me, myself, and I,

may self-pitying tow’rs that fight the sky

collapse upon my ego, laying bare.

O Mother, sweet and blessed, wholly pure,

within whose tender mantle now I lie,

make me unknown.

Slow, slouched, I wait for pity as I try

to battle inner wars. Oh let me die

to self, this secret pride. These shadows lure

me to demise. While I yet stir,

make me unknown.

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Posted on June 24, 2015, in Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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