Prayer to a Lost God
I am ancient hopes,
I am fragile dreams,
I am the stony, hardened tears
of a soul with too many years,
in a journal with degraded seams
as a blind heart in darkness gropes
for a ledge in this edgeless abyss
with disjointed fingers and broken wrists.
I am lonely, I am alone.
I am a royal Queen of Hearts--
may my blood make gory arts
upon my broken throne.
I am missing, I am found.
My rattling sobs make no sound.
I cross my arms and hide my eyes
in fear that my demons escape
through this feeble disguise
of grinding teeth pulled up to the skies
and these pits in my cheeks
and those hands which
feels how a soul dies.
As bloody ink spills across a page,
a page in my dreams, my dreams
of pain.
Look at the rain, child.
Smell the rain.
I am the pounding footsteps
in a mind left to go insane.
I am lost. I am found.
May my body rest
six feet under the ground.
I am ancient hopes
lost to the wind.
Oh my dear God,
how is it that I have sinned?
God of Heaven,
God of the trees--
a hateful God,
a god of Disease.
A disease in my mind--
of stray, hardened tears
of a machine with
worn, broken gears.
God of Disease,
God of unrighteous pain,
what is it that you have to gain
from all this blood that has been spilled
into this abyss
that could never be filled?
I am afraid.
I am alone.
I am a shepherd with no flock,
I am a queen with no throne.
I am a knife made to cut
and I am a pig born to bleed.
I am an impovershed whore
with hungry mouths to feed.
An island of ice, of wind,
lost at sea.
This is the prison
which entraps me.
I am naked, my ass left bare.
My skin is slimy, bleached-- too fair.
I am lonley and I am alone.
Where is it that my God has gone?
The taste of pennies, pennies i do not have.
The feel of heat which no potion or salve
would ever bring me, just the feeling.
All my pain is one shattered glass ceiling
raining down on this body left bare
by a God of Disease who does not care.