Purge

image courtesy hot-metal.net

 

Dunk me into the water

Under the crystalline depths

Between life and death

I am born anew.

Take it all

The pain

The regret

The sorrow

The depression

The scarlet cloak of sin.

I am drenched in blood which is not mine

The burden of a life I was not supposed to live.

It clogs my vision

Roots division

In my failed rendition

Of perfection

I cannot see the light twinkling brightly ahead of me

I am drowning

In the crystalline depths

My chainmail weighs me down

Dragging me into the darkness I sought to protect myself from,

The last bubbles of my screams tracing a silver stream in my deceleration.

Break me into little pieces

Place me in the crucible

And turn up the heat

As I slowly turn from red to white

Molten and free flowing

A far cry from the use I need to be,

I flow readily into your forge,

Anneal me

Tamper me

Bend me on the anvil to your will

And cool my edge in the waters of your love.

I am whole

The one that was broken before

Forged de novo

Reflecting the sun

In your Son

I am a cheap knock off

But hey

Even broken mirrors still tell the truth,

I am

Born

Anew,

And so I beseech you,

Dunk me one more time.

© Sena Frost 2k16

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Gentile Sinner

I was there,
And I was nought.
The night the elder son lost his birthright,
Esau for a plate of stew.
I was there,
And I was nought,
When his ligaments were broken,
His lungs perforated,
Even as he was a corpse.
I was there,
And I was nought,
As he showed Caesar’s face,
And lived with a law.
I was there,
And I was nought,
As he hung from a tree,
A man.
I was there,
And I was nought,
As the righteous condemned him to die.
For the sake of a dead empire.
But he lives.
In me and in you,
And at my darkest,
He loves me.
You see,
I am a gentile,
Feeding off the scraps the children refused to eat.
I am the lowest,
A sinner,
Farthest removed from creation.
And that,
Mustard in me,
Holds a mighty giant.
He raises me,
To sit by his side,
And dine with him.
Body and blood.
That I may know the way,
That is him,
Jesus.

© Sena Frost 2015

Death of a God

I saw him.
He did signs and wonders.
Magic?
He held the faith of a people.
Demagogues of centuries laid bare.
He spoke of many things.
Truth?
Blasphemy decried.
He was put away.
Flogged.
The tip of the whip supersonic.
A half ton.
Dead tree.
Borne on torn muscles.
Such strength.
Superhuman?
But.
When the breath left his body.
I knew.
I witnessed.
The birth of God.

© Sena Frost 2015