NO VACANCY

Crawling around spaces - a closed lens replaces - only seen through the ravine - and every stackhouse isn’t serene - having no traces of faces - nor receptive laces.

Clogging up window trellises in league with darkened schemes, where evermore was gleaned; having visions of grandeur - while upholding philander.

In the place where hope could lean, on the everlasting arms esteem. She tried looking away as the scenes were so horrific. Instead she rose up at the, Holy One’s specific.

The accuser repeatedly dunked her; in the hopes she’d drown and put out her haystack, yet she defied all odds and kept coming back.

Her fear, faith, fortitude; her Lord - Graced her to land flat footed - still going into places, she thought she couldn’t.

Her heart surrounded with angst wrecked with trauma, calluses wrapped around drama - likened to desolate re-runs, meant to rob pieces of her destiny.

The signage of no vacancy, bleeding across her heart; leaving his signature - “The Rose of Sharon” is here, and He shall not depart.

Didn’t you know, sent to reinforce His legacy. The lion and the lamb - laying down together. A tell-tale sign of His word, and it is established.

To think this all started in the pit; while she was masked. If only in the corridors of justice, tumbleweeds of her mind, or the bygones that are - not so bygones left behind. Amen!