TITLE: Bathsheeba's Bath
By David (The Goliath Assassin)
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I feel that this piece is very Christian-oriented, but it reads rather like a modern zombie movie. It's actually the result of a nightmare I woke up from one night. The nightmare was based an emotional reaction I had to my hero's crisis of character in 2 Samuel.
The reason I have chosen to enter it in the critique circle is to get an honest answer to the following question: Is this poem suitable for the regular article submission area, or is there no real place for a write like this on FaithWriters.com?
Something’s telling me I’ve spent way too much time in the shower.
My faucet suffers a constant slow-drip hour after hour.
I wake at night, realizing that the drip has gotten louder.
I creep to see what’s going on there in my bathroom shower.
Crouching there in darkness, trembling in grey-black skin
The tortured stupor of a soldier of the Prince of Sin.
Skinny and slag-jawed he gurgles, fingers long and lank.
Unaware of me, I watched the wicked creature as it drank.
The water, though… looked mighty thick…
I thought some more… and then grew sick.
My eyes widened, realizing that he bathed in the blood of Hell.
He couldn’t drink it fast enough-kept splashing handfuls on himself.
Looking up, I realized he’d always known that I was near.
His wicked gaze upon me, I now trembled, deep in fear.
I watched in horror as he raised his fingers to his face.
He pointed them straight at his eyes and sunk them in their place.
Shrieks of pain and horror and of ecstasy the same.
My mind tried ever harder to understand this gruesome game.
Then, yanking them back out, I saw the blood pool in his eyes
Opening a portal to my soul that left me mesmerized.
I saw her standing there, in all her glory, plain to see.
Bathsheba in her bath, smiling and gesturing to me.
I knew it wasn’t real, and yet I could not look away.
I opened my mouth to speak what I had no power to say.
When she saw I wasn’t coming to her of my own free will
She pushed the curtain wider and crept forward for the kill.
I wanted to reach out and touch her perfect body, so divine
But I harkened to the memory of that crooked, tortured spine.
I looked into her eyes once more and saw the blood drip down.
The image of her shattered, I could see him clearly now.
No time for thought, my fingers flew right up to hit the light
The soldier of sin thankfully became as nothing in mid-bite.
I shook for hours, smelling demon’s breath and feeling evil’s wrath.
I searched my tortured mind for something kind that I could ask.
I prayed to god, and in my heart, I chose a safer path.
Now I shine the light ahead of me to avoid Bathsheba’s Bath.
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