I through the thicket trod, Where the serpent lies, Without the breath of God – Only His eyes. Warmed but by the blaze Of a cherub's blade, Piercing as the gaze; Love no welcome bade. For seeking what was hidden, Forsaking what was known, I lost what I was given And found myself alone. “Surely not,” I thought. Now I shall surely rot.
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Very amazing poem! Thought provoking for me.