Litkicks Message Board Archive

Pure

Posted to Poetry








Lips that slake the outside thirst
for clear waters
leave crimson petals on the glass
mocking the mask that belies innocense

Rest eludes the racing mind
that hears shouts of soul
and eternal fires yet
sleep would bring another hell

There is no escape
for this unworthy lamb
rejected by the good God
as unworthy of that fairytale redemption
and she would rather walk alone
than hear her mocking echo
bounce pitiful from pew to pulpit
forever and ever, amen

In colors thrown by beautiful glass
in a seat worn smooth by time
she sat lookng at a twisted man
remembering hurts from long ago
that were sins against her
and she lit a candle
putting her hand above the flame
to feel something - The man
on the cross
observed in total silence