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I came to You carrying a bowl: white clay set with tourmaline and green beryl like the sea precious                      simple                                  sacred. A silvery glaze you poured over cracks in the clay-- mistakes I have made perfecting                     illuminating                                              scars. Swirling in this vessel, as I stumble toward your hall, is a liquid dark, seething: fire and ink filth and steaming sludge and something                                                                   slithers                                                                                 just below the surface living pollution eking out its existence in a putrid potion. I can hardly lift it anymore. with weakening arms I collapse, but strive to hold the basin yet my hands crushed beneath its weight. With a shattered voice I call to You You who crafted the bowl: Mercy! mercy... Desperate for rescue before the evil lurking within drags itself out to consume.                                                                                                   *What You made                                                                                                              I poisoned,                                                                                    And what in life You gave                                                                                                 I filled with death.                                                                                                  Empty the vessel                                                                                         and unmake the beast.                                                                                                Renew and restore,                                                                                                       Maker of All.*
0
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 5:29 PM UTC
Make and Unmake
I came to You carrying a bowl: white clay set with tourmaline and green beryl like the sea precious                      simple                                  sacred. A silvery glaze you poured over cracks in the clay-- mistakes I have made perfecting                     illuminating                                              scars. Swirling in this vessel, as I stumble toward your hall, is a liquid dark, seething: fire and ink filth and steaming sludge and something                                                                   slithers                                                                                 just below the surface living pollution eking out its existence in a putrid potion. I can hardly lift it anymore. with weakening arms I collapse, but strive to hold the basin yet my hands crushed beneath its weight. With a shattered voice I call to You You who crafted the bowl: Mercy! mercy... Desperate for rescue before the evil lurking within drags itself out to consume.                                                                                                   *What You made                                                                                                              I poisoned,                                                                                    And what in life You gave                                                                                                 I filled with death.                                                                                                  Empty the vessel                                                                                         and unmake the beast.                                                                                                Renew and restore,                                                                                                       Maker of All.*
beth-ivy
Written by
American
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 5:29 PM UTC
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