A son of God
I feel so stretched
Like gossamer cords my spirit is pulled
out as far as a galaxy
Image shakes
the shivers of foundations rising
against the scaffoldings of pain
marble white like fused tectonic plates
glistening from a sea of tears
“What a breathtaking Mausoleum”
I groan in faint and whisper in exhaustion
my fingers bleed from working chisel and axe
but my wrists are strong as ever
As rumbling echoes of thunder
Your chuckle reaches me
And stronger fingers lift my heart
and eyes
“Do not think of finished work,
don’t quell your growth with lies
So you say you wish to die?
For someone craving greatness
that’s strange to sadly sigh
Your life is far from over
not even yet begun
Don’t claim you’ve accomplished enough and with earthly ***** living done