Poetry

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Morbid fascination,
   to know things I don't want to know.
In my flesh's inclination,
   pulling me where I don't want to go.

Weight of sin, flame of fear,
   with the darkness of gloomy guilt.
No sign of fruit anywhere near,
   no clue of where the Spirit's spilt.

There's a retching from my throat
   born from my shadowy state.
Darker things love to gloat
   wanting a much worse fate.

“Raise the lamp against this blight,”
   a wiser one might say.
I will stay in this night;
   silence is what I pray.

I've no reason to be here;
   carnality has no reason.
Like the dead there is no cheer,
   no end to this season.

Feeling moved away from nausea;
   repulsed by my sickened spirit.
Faintly hearing a “Hallelujah!”
   inclining to move near it.

© 7-18-2012
(The Light is coming.)

“You shall eat, not one day, nor two days, nor five days, nor ten days, nor twenty days, but for a whole month, until it comes out of your nostrils and becomes loathsome to you, because you have despised the Lord who is among you, and have wept before Him, saying, 'Why did we ever come up out of Egypt?’” ~ Numbers 11:19-20

“As a dog returns to his own vomit,
So a fool repeats his folly.” ~ Proverbs 26:11

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