Prayer to a Lost God

I am ancient hopes, 

I am fragile dreams, 

I am the stony, hardened tears

of a soul with too many years,

in a journal with degraded seams

as a blind heart in darkness gropes


for a ledge in this edgeless abyss

with disjointed fingers and broken wrists.


I am lonely, I am alone. 

I am a royal Queen of Hearts--

may my blood make gory arts

upon my broken throne.


I am missing, I am found. 

My rattling sobs make no sound.


I cross my arms and hide my eyes

in fear that my demons escape 

through this feeble disguise

of grinding teeth pulled up to the skies 

and these pits in my cheeks

 and those hands which

feels how a soul dies.


As bloody ink spills across a page, 

a page in my dreams, my dreams 

of pain.


Look at the rain, child. 

Smell the rain. 


I am the pounding footsteps

in a mind left to go insane.


I am lost. I am found. 

May my body rest

six feet under the ground.


I am ancient hopes

lost to the wind. 

Oh my dear God, 

how is it that I have sinned?


God of Heaven,

God of the trees--

a hateful God, 

a god of Disease. 


A disease in my mind--

of stray, hardened tears

of a machine with

worn, broken gears.


God of Disease, 

God of unrighteous pain, 

what is it that you have to gain

from all this blood that has been spilled

into this abyss

that could never be filled?


I am afraid.

I am alone. 

I am a shepherd with no flock, 

I am a queen with no throne. 

I am a knife made to cut

and I am a pig born to bleed.

I am an impovershed whore

with hungry mouths to feed.


An island of ice, of wind, 

lost at sea. 

This is the prison

which entraps me.


I am naked, my ass left bare.

My skin is slimy, bleached-- too fair.


I am lonley and I am alone. 

Where is it that my God has gone?


The taste of pennies, pennies i do not have.

The feel of heat which no potion or salve

would ever bring me, just the feeling. 

All my pain is one shattered glass ceiling

raining down on this body left bare

by a God of Disease who does not care.

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