Born a Servant

 Where is the better birth of a servant?

The mouth of a beast, the waves of the sea

or the bend of a mother's heart beat?

Swimming through the sewage of salvating fluid,

he stumbled in the mouth of the beast

the mouth of the thief who took every part of his being

A ship coursed for the rush of the deep,

he rode every word in a state of debris

it was all he could hold

all he could cling to

He sought fear, it failed him

anguish drove his mind, forbade him

Drowning in a growing sea of shattered dreams between the sweat on his brow, the tears in his

eyes

and the raging flood within

he was sinking in the abyss of his own self pity

in the mouth of an

ignorant stranger

He rode the surface of this fleshly foundation

sliding down the tract of digestive devastation

Yet, something burned inside him

and he knew it wasn't the end

Falling into the arms of the unknown

he embraced the warm touch of the blue

feeling its tender love like sweet little kisses

dancing on the edges of his skin

and he found he could breathe again

when freedom sung from the depths of his lungs

In the bosom of this naval blanket

the world was his to gain

But where was the world in this void of timelessness?

Everything endless, without purpose

a cloud soaring through a vacant sky

not a spec of white found in the eye

He realized he was victimized to the trap of this lullaby

the arms beneath him dropped

and the chains of death locked the very breath that sustained him

His lips ran from the sting of his lungs

but his voice was already gone

And those same black hands began to close his lowely eyelids, dragging him down

Since they thought he was dead

Beneath the weight of his chest, a beat ceases to be bent

The stench of his journey, the tears that he wept, met by the scent of what he calls

"home"

A fire ignites the marrow in his bones

Though he may be alone, he knows exactly where he roams

Itching in his ears, love pounds against the walls of his soul. He's made to feel alive

But he lacks control

Dying inside--  his bones illuminate with the white strength it captivates

But they can't escape

the poison that make them feel "safe"

Tearing through the tissue of his heart's dissolve,

the pang in his chest wasn't love at all

Exploding inside his weary mind

A snap of a pulse

rise to fall

on the surface of a cold reality

the connection of his life to her drunken iniquity

Stricken with the burden of her sin and shame

left for dead

an empty hotel room

nothing to gain

From the depths of his chest, his heart began to scream

curdling his lungs, the presence of nicotine

Battered in the substance of shattered glass, ethanol's decay

he was born for sin's desire

and this was the only way

Shining through the coating of his black and blue body

breaking through the chains suffocating his anatomy

Love was presented in the hands of Savior

through the nails that were driven in the scars untailored

Written in the blood that flows from Calvary, life was revised

when He signified His name

At the foot of the cross, every man stands the same

Born to be broken

so He can be gained

From the highest palace, full of riches and gold

to the waste of the city, where the people grow old

Truth be told, servants are made in life's commission

But to whom does they serve?

That is the difference

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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