On this thy last day spent

On this thy last day spent
While early morning hours fall
For all the days yet past
All seem they an endless haze

Thy troubles often torn
Within thy broken heart adorn
All is not forgot in this
Some may steal thee with a silent kiss

Yet, through the fog of woe
Look I, out amidst the darkened sky
Still hope lies within the heart
For know I the creator of thy art

Thy passioned poisoned mind
No greater death than this may find
Yet do not seek thy comfort in the crumbled clay
Let the spirit guide and form thy favored art inside

Creation is his prize and looks on he
With jealous eyes
On all they who would despise
And steal away thy purity

Despair not in what thee cannot find
For loves a greater here than humankind
Tis true and faithful still
Though all the world should strip it of its worth

The truth for all despise
Cannot be unchanged
For a mind deranged
Could not its wonders know

Its beauty grows richer day by day
While all the while is counterfeit decays
Till all at last thy chosen few
Shall see it full in plain view

And then for all its treasures bound
Unleashed to torture and to cleanse
All enemies and new found friends

-Joshua Lee Foist