and as i walk along the brick road,
i look back and He’s there.
catching up beside me, He asked me
‘why do you abandon hope, and your
love.’ i say that he will never feel the same
and i’ve come to accept it.

He went on to say, ‘blessed are those
who are pure in heart - and you, my child
gave him the purest form of love you could
the same agape that I give you’

my soul rejoiced for His words, and
i’m reminded of how he suffered so I
may feel for anyone without sin

i love god more then him, but i
show them the same type of love.
one reciprocated in action, the other didn’t.

you say that you’ll never be gay
or associate with anything queer
but i tell you
the atoms you’re surrounded by are gay
that sun you are feeling is queer
being gay is in the worlds nature
encrusted like diamonds on a coronet

and i say to him:
have you no shame, no hope
for what you will become?
day by day, you demean yourself
sure, you speak of wisdom and religion,
but you are vain and ignorant.

don’t you know a church window
is supposed to let the sun in?
its colours work together thus,
creating a collage of glory incarnate
where you, mockingly, say that
you are the window itself?

fool, turn around and see so
you know nothing, you are nothing
and continue down this path? you’ll return
to nothingness, a void, somewhere between
something and something else

the precum drips out of my head
and my teardams crack
as i mourn the life i could’ve had
the self discovery ripped away
the friends who left, my heart shattered
by saying those two words

new identity made, but is it
just a farce?

new friends made, or do they
want me just for my body?

my heart reconnected with gold and lacquer
but is it all in vain?

i lie in my bed, riding a clarity i only feel
before the shame comes in

unadded, exiled from the kingdom
i think back to his enchanting features
and weep bitterly, proclaiming:
oh, woe is me, a person exiled from
the city walls which guards against barbarians

god forgive me for
falling into temptations not of the devil
but of myself, my own musing:
forgive me for allowing myself to fall for him
forgive me for not trusting you

your body will
wrinkle and shrivel
crack and deform itself
into a tapestry of frailty and age

what then, will you have?
your best feature taken away from you
no more wages paid - nobody wants elders

weep bitterly, for your life will speak for itself
a life of virtual prostitution, and for what?
notoriety? money? what for?

at the end of the day, you’ll have the light
a beacon of hope that guided you through
listen for it, and it’s still small voice