Love feared

What is beautiful in it's fathom is fear to hope.
A fear of what may follow when strength is gotten from the weak of shaking stance.
The protruding truth from chests plough beyond fealty, beyond martydom, beyond eyelashes blushing at a glance.

The tingling in bellies trampled by found beauty of fear readying it's leap. Aches hungry exhales from dripping pulpits we pew quietly in coupled and sinful recluse.
Minded behemoths circling bantamic efforts of atrocities against the belief dangling beneath heaven's scriptured noose.

This arena of words coy to the touch but brave to the facing mirrors of self and soul. Calendars calculating in the torture of pages torn and rent, heard pens cease their writes fighting for fear to be loved, justice given only, in it's must to vent.