soul entree
from my hands i could give you
something that i made
from my mouth i could sing you another brick that i laid
from my body i could show you a place god knows
you should know the space is holy
do you really want to go?
say it right
blog
15 July 2005
the darkness is pure, and perfect, defining
your dying with clear, adamant lines. perhaps
you are already late, your spirit slipped
into the night, leaving the pale midnight
of your body and the solid cross framing
its loneliness. you are so well stretched
ouy, nailed such precision
that the weight, of death scarcely shows.
they even provide
a resting block for your feet. only
your head hangs down, your locks falling
to he right, a final gesture of resignation.
youe eyes are closed to a world sunk
beneath the combined pressureof the halo
and mocked.
the desolation is complete, the absense
fully embodied. no lamenting disciples,
no curious or unbelieveing spectators.
no angels wait behind the black dark curtain.
the emptiness keeps pity out, and
swollows all doubts of your death.
... i wont be back for a long time....
