Disclaimer: I do not own the Bible
AN: Not my best by far . . . needs criticism . . . maturely
Hebrews 13:1 "Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering."
Falling Asleep
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R i g g e d winds of double edged swords s – l – i – c – e
The twirlytwirlytwirly sands about the gurgling clay mire
Whilst the blazing hearth boils Earth's long parched grains
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Such a lonely famine
They tumble within!
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Charcoal silhouettes c r a c k l e laughter (haunting his mirage of sight)
And the heavenly pounding of raven wings resound farfarfar above,
As they gnash chipped, dusted teeth before his vacant russet irises . . .
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Lo' his face yet resembles
Frail angelic splendor!
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¡Woe¡Woe! unto the tents of Sanhedrin conceit –
Those stiff-necked bodies lacking a righteous soul,
Sitting upon bloody rags, feasting upon d r i p p i n g grapes!
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Weep for the broken body of conviction,
Kneeling before the sky's mournful judge!
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Look! Oh behold the carpenter man from Galilee,
Standing holy and blessed in the sapphire light of dawn
At the right hand of the One upon the sun-kissed throne!
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I see the Son of Man . . .
And He calls unto me!
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And Gabriel drips sacred innocent streams of salt for the man
Whilst his hoarse and sandy murmur wilts as the lily of the valley
And wailingseethingconvulsing they seize his gory mass of tissue . . .
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Dragging his lax form from burghal walls,
They expel pestilence from their commorancy!
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Daring not to allow such flesh to contaminate Earthly possessions
(ashy monetary treasures fashioned from crypts and bony fingers
Only to waste within the tombs of temporary men of repute!)
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Woe! A toss of tangible gall
And palm knees kiss fire glass!
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Firmament-baked lifeless pupils hover handbreadths above –
S l i t h e r i n g forked tongues wagging beside moaning ears -
(they circlecirclecircle as vultures upon a dying carcass of roasting flesh!)
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They satisfy lust with agony squalls
And assault flesh with jagged stones!
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B r i t t l e bones flare in futile protest of swollen begs,
For scoffingsalivatingbedamning creatures curse him unto the grave
Whilst crimson liquid embellishes a decrepit face of prayers hushed within
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Lord Jesus, receive unto Thee my spirit,
Forgive them their blind judgment!
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Condemnation's stone stains the thirsty lands long barren of hue,
And he reposes in an eternal dawning towards his revelation . . .
Cradled into eternity within hallowed heavenly arms of gold and pearl . . .