The Torch

Lord, let me be the torch that springs to light
    And lives its life in one exultant flame,
One leap of living fire against the night,
       Dropping to darkness even as it came.
For I have watched the smouldering of a soul
    Choked in the ashes that itself hath made,
Waiting the slow destruction of the whole,
    And turned from it, bewildered and afraid.

Light me with love - with hate - with all desire
    For that I may not reach, but let me burn
My little moment in pulsating fire
    Ere yet into darkness I return;
Be it for guard, or menace, peace or sword,
    Make me thy torch to burn out swiftly, Lord.

                                        --Theodosia Garrison

 

Font Color: #FFCC00, #000000

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