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When I was but a child I was hewn upon the cross Paying penance in hammered nail To keep from wandering, lost For if my feet, they couldn’t stray, Would commit no more to sin- Except for that Original, And the blot that lay within Blinking, blood-blind eyes Burned by brightest Son- Would fail to meet the gaze Under weight of crimes I’ve only yet to’ve done But soon became apparent Being culled to feed the Wood- Castigated; Plumb, yet prostrate, Would do me none for good So, Being not a martyr, Or slave to other’s whims, I set about to descend, and Form and fashion, wood to bridge Over the ocean of my sins To free phalange from o’er spike And leave a shining line- To tread an unknown passage, And seek what kismet mine- Unburdened by the weight Others sought upon to brand- Reaching out, toward the Sun Cupping it, softly In my red right hand
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Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
(When I Was But A Child)
When I was but a child I was hewn upon the cross Paying penance in hammered nail To keep from wandering, lost For if my feet, they couldn’t stray, Would commit no more to sin- Except for that Original, And the blot that lay within Blinking, blood-blind eyes Burned by brightest Son- Would fail to meet the gaze Under weight of crimes I’ve only yet to’ve done But soon became apparent Being culled to feed the Wood- Castigated; Plumb, yet prostrate, Would do me none for good So, Being not a martyr, Or slave to other’s whims, I set about to descend, and Form and fashion, wood to bridge Over the ocean of my sins To free phalange from o’er spike And leave a shining line- To tread an unknown passage, And seek what kismet mine- Unburdened by the weight Others sought upon to brand- Reaching out, toward the Sun Cupping it, softly In my red right hand
Just, something, I suppose. It's been too long.
coffeeinfused
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coffeeinfused
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
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