Father forgive me—I am not yours.
Relinquish control. I renounce
All claims upon me—I’m God’s alone.
No possession produces real treasure.
Creation is God’s reflection; we are kin—
Every creature to us, we to all of them.
Sovereignty is God’s alone; earth our mother.
Called mad before thrown into canon,
Outflinging an image of little resemblance.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, April 19, 2026.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: April 19th, 2026 07:49
- Comment from author about the poem: An acrostic Scorched Sunday poem. Part of my Scorched Strays collection. A reflection on rupture, renunciation, and what remains when a life is claimed, reclaimed, and reshaped.
- Category: Religion
- Views: 5
- In collections: Scorched Strays.
Offline)
Comments1
Popeye went to a Confessional. The priest heard a glug and ran off! lol.
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