In the hands
of my sanctuary,
each knot tied
becomes a chain broken,
each one a worry
given up,
a weight I don't
have to carry
because I am Your
captive,
bound by love,
held in place
to please Your eyes,
to sate Your flesh,
to use
or not
as You see fit,
to await
Your will.
To be free
from everything else.
For now,
only You matter.
(c) Tortured Cyclone 2014, 2016
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