A singeing of fears

I am silver, hands like a terrible fish,
Death is merciless, it seeks a sacrifice,
Plaits me to a grave. The acid of its scythe
Burns, O Jesus, quicken me to a prayer;
I shut my eyes and masturbate a solemn request.

Dear God, I don’t want a pine box,
A quick rot to dumb earth, and coffin flies
Crawling into my mouth-hole,
Legs cold that roll-up like bandages;
No, I want a lined coffin couched in silk.

My bone shanks need it comfortable,
They will be lolling in a terminal sleep;
I do not want angels crying over a rapid decay.
All my life I have been poor and white,
I pray as I choke on an age, let me be peaceful

In the granite yard. God asks why? To see you
In that damned aged condition, and yet you grieve.
Your day of doom has come, my child,
Soon you will be a crock of dust in my home.
Can there be such eagerness for a comfort?

Your mind has grown feverish, you impose
Upon me like a stillborn. The sin of it all.
The tongue of your prayer is dull, fat, laborious;
Devilish person! I am numbed by your hope.
In a mercy, she plied her old umbilicus into a mass grave.

Copyright © 09/01/18 lance sheridan®

My fears Begging Hands by Doc Braham

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26 comments on “A singeing of fears

  1. sherazade says:

    prequel di una fine arrabbiata e disperata.
    inquietante.
    shera

  2. MOMENTS says:

    I like how you treat the subject of death and god using such powerful, beautiful and elaborate imagery that creates great emotional intensity.

  3. ortensia says:

    Beautifully upsetting…..may be because we all have to face that pine box sooner or later for us or someone else and who knows if it will be silken or not.❤️

  4. Powerful, even a bit frightening. Intense imagery. No pine box for me. I’ve opted for cremation.

  5. Dorianna says:

    As I age and find myself getting closer to that day, I, too, mourn such a disagreeable but inevitable state…no box, silken or otherwise for me…cremate me and let my spirit fly free. Beautiful imagery as you always weave into your words.

  6. As age overtakes us, we yearn for death and yet fear it. “If someone dies, will they live again? All the days of my hard service I will wait for my renewal to come. You will all and I will answer You; You will long for the creature Your hands have made. Surely then you will count my steps, but not keep track of my sins” (Job 14: 14-16 NIV).

  7. This is really beautiful, Lance. So real and exploratory even in the depth of what’s normally not explored. I appreciate your creativity and authenticity. Thank you.
    Blessings, Debbie

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