- Books, Literature, and Writing
Plagues in My Temple
Eyes like warring countries
Your eyes are like two warring countries,
Never to come to peace with your choices...
For you have set your feet on a plot of perpetual desolation.
Your spirit makes a diligent search for the remains of your sanctuary
And because you welcomed in the flames,
Your tears will fall into the ashes, unnoticed...
Your hands will reach out all night for what they search for,
But they will never find it.
Your own thoughts have become the daggers that shed your blood,
So do not laugh, nor cry…those are for the living.
You have sold the life once in you, so you are nothing.
If only you wished for deliverance,
For someone to look down into your pit and pull you up,
Out of the soot and ashes and darkness...
The thoughts that plague your mind run ever faster,
Twisting into tunnels of brambles and thorns.
I did not want to lose you, so I reached down,
Down into that darkness that I had once known, and now hated.
The thorns pierced gentle flesh and my blood dripped slowly, sadly, into the ash
I cry and pray in desperation to find a way through to you,
To the hope that is beyond this desolation.
Who can speak more clearly to me than my own heart and soul and mind?
It is from this place you dragged me that I must flee.
For you will not be reached, you do not desire to be free.