I wouldn’t know why their faiths never run
out of reasons to burn bright
Or maybe I do – And bright they do burn –
For they all shine like festival of lights.
Every scout at each turn
drunk on strength in numbers, tells me
the only way to be is devout
when cast beneath their hypocrisy
are shadows warning of a turnabout
Or so I see…
Believing to know better, I walk away
in search of your mighty River
to rinse this living’s vicious gray.
Hope hangs above – a crescent sliver
And path’s beguiling a doomsday
Still I call your Name – from dawn to dusk till daybreak –
like a hymn on my bloodied lips,
count it on prayer beads with the ache
thrumming between my fingertips,
while your welts grace deeper – like you say – for my sake.
Lingering on starlight are promises
of a forever quiescence if I take your hand
So willingly I tie the blindfold, surrendering to your abyss
Till home begins to feel a foreign land
And familiarity tastes as if an intruder’s kiss.
But if this worship has brought me any closer
it is only to my Death
And now when your love reveals itself a poser,
truth soughed out like on a dying man’s breath
for Silence never does grant salvation of closure
just another rotting tenant in a lonesome grave,
I wonder if it is as simple as branding
myself the knight and you a knave?
decaying as sand pitter-patters like the rain
I wonder if it really is a misunderstanding
to call it a love if I have only ever loved you for the pain?