My grace

In the whispers of the dead
i find more life than here.
in the longings of my heart
I have entered the wasteland.
Empty wind torn places
Where shrieking birds sweep
The sky.
I feel the jackals breath on
My face
And their hot teet at my throat.
I lay my life down for you
i seek to find your grace
Is it possible. to find 
sanctuary in your arms?
To wander like A
restless wind
homeless
watching centuries of sand.
Reveal than conceal.
It is the way of things.
Nothing lives forever.
And without you here to 
Love
I would rather seek oblivion.