January 9, 2013
My joints have been dislocated,
My body bled to white.
In the midst of fear and pain,
I know that this is right.
My bones have broken one by one.
My dead skin burns with fire;
All because I refused to find
The source of my desire.

Taunts and jeers
Reach my ears….

My limbs are being cruelly crushed.
The dark cuts like a knife;
All because I did not try
To gain eternal life.
The pain is endless, no relief,
My whole self stretched and crumbled;
For on earth I wore a mask.
My heart was torn and troubled.
My feelings reigned, my self contained,
My being turned to dust.
God offered mercy, offered love,
But all I knew was lust.

My description can hardly describe
The pain that always is.
In my heart it is the worst;
I know there’s more than this.
So I despair; I cannot hope.
I’ve chosen my own path.
My own blackness attacks me;
This is not just God’s wrath.

I cannot tell you of God’s love;
I can only say I’m sorry.
Do not try to walk alone.
Do not try to be hardy;
For in my exile I have seen
That everyone needs God.
To our God, I shook my head.
While you can – instead – please nod.

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TheEpic95 said...
Mar. 23, 2013 at 11:38 pm
Wow, this is good! SO GLAD to finally found someone who likes that style of abab and (generally) eight/six, eight/six syllables. I dont know that you did it intentionally (though it looks that way), but I always loved it. The poem is deep. Not just telling about the horror of hell, but the source of it. The hard truth is it is self chosen, and when, as sinners, we are faced with the horror of ourselves, we dont see the fire, we see justice, and it is our self loathing more than the Wrath of the... (more »)
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