I would have given more. I tied my children to a dying horse. Stacked up against me, the bodies heaved and stank upon their gore. On the earth lying still, my father found me there, ashamed and dying bare. I had spent many years destroying all around, took everything I found.
With a dying fall his voice left him. It shouldn’t be this way. Do not hope for any other. And he picked up my hand.
I would have given more. They brought me misery and they would not falter. We poured down our ratchets, Upon them day and night with brutal force and might. To dead men and absent, there are no friends left to scribe the things we do.
When I wake up I want to see you. Bring me the life that is within you. I charge myself off your body, But in my arms, the darkness deepens.
I’ll raise my hand to break you. If I don’t another will.
And my father left forever. It shouldn’t be this way. I sang long psalms of bitter verse, but God had turned away. Men are free at the blood of Christ. I wish it was this way.
Breathing is faster and breathing is deeper, And falling no longer bothers me. Sinking is deeper, thinking is cleaner. Your love it flows away from me. The pool of Bethesda beckons me closer. Put off that closing evil hour. The Devil, he is very old indeed. We sit with a few stories to tell.