Monday, February 15

When I am in the wrong and all is not
Well in matters heart and soul and flesh,
When wet is dry and course, and ice is hot
And pieces shatter sharply and vanish,
When falling hair does flow away from scalp
And lashes eye bat from the crescent lids
When ribs and bones under pressure do snap
And pure and clear revealing mirrors are hid,
When rooms are circular and all a maze
And hands from basements reach out from the dark
To snatch the throats in ignorance of their haze
And delicately squeeze each dying spark,

        Then with the nails, the lamb of God, behold!,
        Who takes away the sins of every world.