Category: Poetry

I whipped him, and I slashed him And I stabbed him, and I kicked him And I mocked him, and I nailed him And I wouldn’t give up And I wouldn’t stop Not even when he cried out to God But then I paused… Because then I could see… That when he cried out to God… He cried out…for me?

You black and icy iron chain That shackles hand and foot, You filled my heart with doubt and shame; You filled my lungs with soot. In my youth you held me down. In winter cold you grew. You made me fear for all I had And question all I knew. When I became aware of you, I knew you for my foe. And though I begged and though I clawed You would not let me go

Would you trust a soldier Who runs into the war With no armor on his back Despite his prideful roar? He says he will not fall And he says he will not die But Truth itself will soon reveal Such claims to be a lie Would you trust that soldier And follow in his wake Knowing that his blinding pride Is just one big mistake?

I took fifty shots that night And they rang out loud and clear They struck me each upon the heart As they shattered in my ear My friends took shots as well that night But theirs didn’t strike so deep Mine set my heart and the world ablaze While theirs put them to sleep