“‘Clang, Bang, Clang’ went big iron doors
They put me in a cell with bars and concrete floors”
I sit upon the precipice of new existence
Turning my back on my old ways, old modes
Of thinking that always cause trouble:
Discord and Envy gnaw at my heels;
The heavy oil fills the stomach, nauseated and content;
Foreskin torn from the heat of masturbation.
A new path opens, though I can’t divine
Whether its path leads to salvation or a flaming coffin.
I try to stay, to be worthy of the esteem
Of the lady of my heart, and yet carnal cravings
Drive me to seek touch without love,
Grasp without tenderness, contact sans compassion.
A desperately lonely man who won’t get out of his own prison
For fear of the perils of the outside
A silly man who wants to cry but can’t
A lugubrious man who wants for the world but hasn’t the patience
A shameful man who can’t accept failure
An anxious man who is depressed
A depressed man who is anxious
You’ll “never catch me with a Jesus piece”
You’ll “never catch me with that Jesus peace”
\"YOUR ETERNAL LOVE
Has been removed from the list.\"
How else can the wrought iron be perfected
if not in the purging flame?