I
heard a cry, and oh for pain,
such
to struggle. I feature
sadness,
something strangles,
suffering
and sinning. I
fall
to write, to plead release, and oh Father!
What for mercy, quasi-cursed,
sorting
through
bane. I
melt a touch, to feel it cry,
an
intense motion.
Dear for Lord! a light is blinking,
a
chalkboard screeching;
and
more for mind,
and
more a voice, urging action.
I transgress, to bear for slipping,
a
heart to follow.
It’s ever to grace, grazing on insanity,
flipping
through
fields.
Oh for abyss, a naked kiss,
a
feature throbbing;
and
let it fall, crawling for sinking,
to
speak a name.
We filter ghosts, to channel spirit,
to
kneel for weeping.
Oh for Lord! the deepest sanctum,
to
reach a surface; and
what
for death, to strip and salvage,
a
touch for limbo. I ask,
to
drift through secrets, sick and sullen.
So
more to Maccabees,
a
prayer for purgatory, to silence suffering.
Else for hollow, to wallow in rain,
gripping
a mudslide;
for
life is panic, to seize within,
a
valley of lost souls; and ever
a
war-call, simmered in demons,
approaching
holy. So more the
mercy,
calling Christ,
for
reckless and grieving.
