Don’t remember when I tripped
don’t remember when I fell
into the arms of the devil
into the fires of hell.
Thought I’d mended my wings
spread them wide to fly
headed for the heavens
the bright blue cloud filled skies.
The fires burn around me
my scars are raw and red
pain sears through my soul
I’m alive and yet I’m dead.
The flames tear at my flesh
when you look at me what do you see?
Do you see tomorrow’s guilt?
Is there anything left that used to be?
My wings are burnt to a crisp
from my body they do fall
my being melts in the heat
until I’m not there at all.
My mouth opens wide to scream
the pain rips like hot knives
I pray this is not real
the agony my senses deprive.
My footing never was secure or firm
my hold on sanity not strong
now I’m fodder for the worms
is this the place where I belong?
I met the devil at the end of the line
his tongue was silver and gold
his words like fine Irish lace
were a beauty to behold.
Restitution for my life I must pay
forever to burn in the flame
crying out in desperation
to hear someone call my name.
-
Author:
baj-a (
Offline) - Published: April 4th, 2013 07:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- User favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy.
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Comments5
Baj-a your poems are always full of beauty, but today's poem is one of the most beautifully written , realistic and heart breaking. It is so true
we all have to pay restitution but I hope most peoples wings are only a little burnt and with a loving father's hand and some loving salve they can once again heal enough to fly home. soki
This is one of those "WOW" poem where I just don't have the right words to say! Fantastic imagery, a work of art!
Rather intensely thought-provoking with excellent imagery, this heart-breaking plea reaches as it were for the soul, asking questions from the abyss that I find seems many these days allude to struggling in, sans relief. Poignant and haunting, it begs an answer, which I only know in the LORD Jesus Christ. Thanks for sharing, richly laden, 'tis deep, to say the least.
ttfn,
Jenny
I enjoyed the read. Thank you for sharing your' work. I especially enjoyed this line, "his words like fine Irish lance". Something about that makes me go numb inside.
The actions in the present is what matters. Replace your fears with love. Continue cultivating your faith and the Universal Father will show you what true mercy is, something humans are yet to discover and act upon, when needed. I like the humanism of this poem ba-ja 🙂
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