A Sinner’s Prayer

Forgive me o’ Lord for I have sinned

You’ve heard this a million times

it could be tattooed to my lips

I head right at every possible turn

even when I know volcanic rubbles lie awaits

I’ve condemned my self all my life

better me than you I always say

better to start walking the grave than hope for life

for what has hope ever brought to the hopeless

what has life brought to a begger

I am a refugee at best with sticky hands

I know how to stop but I don’t know when

I think today is the last time but it never is

what has hope ever brought to a sinner?

I head right at every crossroad I come

Past the forest, deep into the woods

running up the hill that snakes at every turn

Forgive me o’ Lord for I have sinned

unfortunately it won’t be my last confession either

I’ve heaved and whined and rolled in mud

I say “it is well”, we both know I don’t mean it

I’m thankful for every chance of redemption you offer

and condemn myself every time I fail

better me than you I always say

what hope in life is there for a person who may know left?

Son Of Babylon

Tete-e-Tete on a foyer

he bows his head in a prayer

spiraling, sooner than later

the old town hall grows dimmer

 

Pre-nostalgic vibes on the edge

The rechoreting sound of silence

safe to say, he feels lurid

everything surmises after all

 

Like a lewd bawd in midsummer’s ball

Like a shrewd mother shields her youngling

From the shards of a filtering moonbeams

Reminding him he was raised on holy grounds

 

 

Son of Babylon, Cry for me

Let me lay on your bosom

Let our breaths synchronize

No iota of reprucusions

 

Our bodies must pay the price

With every breath

I beg thee, Son of Babylon

Save thyself.

 

Image credit: Pinterest

 

 

 

 

 

Stella

In time, we will be nothing but a speck of dust, Buried in the ground, for others to tread upon Leaving a footprint that’ll haunt the living The beauty of life is that print we leave.

Father, Transform her from dust to dove. Release her into the wind. She’ll soar gracefully, through the valley of death

Transform her from dove to angel Heaven has no windows, yet she sees God, As clearly as a neonate opens their eyes for the first time to behold her parent. And she will know peace like never before —the kind the world she left behind could only imagine.

Dearest Stella.

1963 – 2018 .