Poetry

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My head in my hands, life on the floor,
all because I wanted more.
I fathered my own latest strife,
and it must end with sacrifice.

What is left to become of me?
I am bereft. Trapped, not free.
I’m the one who brought me here,
the source of my own putrid fear.

I must die to save myself.
Pride so high as my own hell.
A wall o’ flame to blind my sight,
from one good Name and my sole might.

Two hearts here within this flesh.
One of life and one of death.
If You have Your way tonight,
one heart will live in this life.

For the sin that abounds so much,
exceeding grace must be my crutch.
While I failed, You died for me.
There, my need found at Your tree.

If my heart must beat tonight,
my inner death will win this fight.
In that end, begin with You.
In my place, be what’s true.

© 1-27-08

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