Sin's Daggered Wound

Sin's Daggered Wound

Oh Lord, in my darkest hour,

I still feel the presence of your tears

upon my back.

I cannot face this sin

that drags me down from lofty heights.

Your hand upon my shoulder,

I cannot be consoled!

It's too soon and I am too ashamed

You breath, sweet in my nostrils, and your heavenly image

reflects from everywhere save only my own eyes.

My disillusioned soul pleads behind my back for forgiveness

and I cannot bear to face even the glimmer of its honesty.

Where is this beautiful thing that inhabits

deep within me, that I might go there?

And plead with it for my soul.

Your laughter, so pleasing to me once,

leaves me smarting for my own stupidity

and falls upon the

deaf, mute mind of the fool.

Yours, always the high, hard way,

and I, whose feet blister so easily,

have once again hitched a ride

upon the tired ass

who knows only the softness of smooth paved byways...

The dagger, set firmly in my breast,

resists the hand; Your hand,

which only wishes to remove it.

Give me the strength to assist your operation

that I might be saved from my self-inflected foolishness.