Poetry

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I ENTER THE FRAY WITH ABANDON

I creep, I crawl, I find that I am nothing at all.
The years roll by, and I look back at an illusion, a delusion
A mockery of self.
I stand before a mirror
And I feel a tremendous emptiness, a hollowness, a void.
I look upon the lie
That is my life
And I cry out
Oh my God, is this all there is?
And in that question, there must be an answer.

The clamor, the deluge of madness has gripped me.
I have felt its tentacles around my throat
Choking, squeezing, mocking.
I have felt such indescribable loneliness
That my pen is inadequate to tell the tale . . .
So comes the quest, and I find the answer.

A night and a day . . .
The tears, the anguish, the release.
Was it the hardest thing that I have ever done,
Or the easiest?
As God is my Witness
It was the most noble.
And as God is my Witness
There has been a metamorphosis
A change, a rebirth
A phoenix unbridled in flight.
And I find that the old man is dead.
There is a sadness there
Because I did love him and his ways.
But the grief, the guilt that he brought,
It was more than I could bear alone.
I am alone no more.

Like the dying thief
I have turned to the One next to me for relief.
And a peace
Like nothing I have ever known
Cascades over me.
And I dream of a new Earth
And pure water and purer hearts.
And I know that my destiny
Is not in this mire and clay,
I was created for finer things.
And if he who dragged me
To the depths of desperation
Should come to haunt me . . .
I am no longer alone.

The serpent may laugh
And send his own to the battle
But as for me
I will enter the fray with abandon.

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