Beyond those cutting edges

I’ve teetered-tottered on the edge of the abyss
Beyond unclean, despairing rivulets and trash
Those broken cottages with rusty mesh – Hurt’s kiss
I’ve felt the whip and bared the rush of Torment’s lash

But before these places of distress, defeat, and pain
I’ve known soft baptisms of hopeful, love-filled peace
And in those waters, Grace knew me and me, her gain
But through these trials, regardless of if they cease –

A place exists where Torture’s minions don’t swarm
And I’ll say it as clichéd and used as it may sound
Because the warmth and tender strength found in your arms
Breaks cutting edges and with auras of some worth shrouds

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

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