Advent I - Desolation

Photo by D. Munoz-Santos via Flickr

Nighttime.

Lost within bleak wastelands of our wanting,

And each one drunk on bitter wine of self

We stagger on.

With empty hands and hearts

We search alone in darkness,

While wind batters and ice bites,

We stumble over the trash heap

Of our desires.

But all the things that glittered

Have lost their shine

And we fall shattered in their midst,

Still grasping at the pieces.