Central distress
I'll be the story
You can aim your hate at me
. . .

Point your arrows to the sun
And watch as violence disintegrates
Before you
In a spectral flash
Of ever burning tolerance.
....

Your short comings never
Seemed so tall to me
I eat your pessimism like candy
Sweet heart you could try to swallow
My contentment
But it would only heal you...

And that suffering you relish
Like some great gift from god....

You don't know christ, do you?