The Sign

A veiled horizon
I stumble to and change the train
Sing my own praises
Don't realize it is insane
Nine thin peelings
Once so fresh now flaccid skin
I try to graze it
In vain

Burnt in my skin
A cruel sign
Of your denial
You incised in me
Drowned in my sins
I realized
Your childlike
Divinity

Coarse and defaced
Sleeps my gently covered grace
And my delusions
A portrait of my wild goose chase

For alleviation
Want animate the wet weeped blaze
And can't create it
In vain