I come to you

I come to you, with broken arms, and ask to be,
covered with, golden wings,
My heart is weak, its beat is faint,
it echoes with, all I leave unnamed,
all you gave, I could never arrange,
in any way,
so I sing again, and beg in silence,
if you would cover me, in quiet safety,
where forgiveness over powers resistance,
and love takes precedence over disbelief,
where I could rest, a million unshed tears,
I come to you, with deafened ears, and ask to hear,
a single note, in complete, harmony,
to at last behold, the direction, the four winds blow,
I come to you lost and old, without much,
of anything, and ask to lay, at your feet,
to give up, my ashes and residues, of blame held with shame,
and a fear which, even death, could not unveil,
I come to you, in the burning fever, of being washed,
in countless forms, on distant shores, without even two moments,
where I was sure, which was mine, and which was yours,
I come to you, in complete, secrecy, lost in,
the mirror of, endless pretense,
and ask to be, given new,
purpose.