Standing on the Finite

It is dark and I lie alone, with a heart shaped cavity in my chest,

As I contemplate life without a heart, 

I hear the sound of shifting gravel, someone is approaching, 

The music stops just shy of my ear, 

He speaks and the dark veil catches on fire, 

I can see everything in the afterglow of the fire, but I can't see his face, 

He comes closer, and kneels down, 

He has found my heart, my dry, dirty, and damaged heart. 

He gently pulls off the gravel, and wipes away the dirt,

He speaks again, but this time to the black organ that gives me life. 

Color appears, and so does motion. 

My heart beats! 

He slowly places this beating source of life back into it's home

He closes the cage. 

I beat again! 

He stands up and reaches down with a wholly hand, 

He speaks once more, "Now I am the source of your life."

As the moon blows out the sun, 

Her anger darkens the sky, 

The blackness a reminder of her power over me, 

She broke through my cage, 

Her hand wrapped around my velvety heart, 

She squeezed. 

All of my life flowed down his hand. 

It poured to the ground as as black and white drops.

In the glow of her revulsion, 

My heart lay on the ground wrung dry. 

I see a tree dressed in white, 

I am envious and angry.

The tree mocks me with its vibrance,

The tree taunts me with it's life. 

I would chop the tree down, 

But I am a shadow,

A vacant shell. 

I see a river clothed in translucence,

The river mocks me with it's silence

The river taunts me with it's motion.

I would dam the river, 

But I am shadow, 

I barely exist. 

Grace interrupts time

Grace interrupts causality

Grace interrupts death

Grace interrupted me. 

Grace stops the pain

Grace stops the end

Grace stops the tears

Grace stopped me

Grace injects life

Grace injects joy

Grace injects healing

Grace injected me

Grace saves the broken

Grace saves the poor 

Grace saves the dead

Grace saved me.