Sunday, November 16, 2003

(A poem I wrote this morning, partly inspired by station 3 of The Worship Labyrinth, experienced at The Worship Freehouse)

Terror Lost/Found

Don't prey for me; I'm already dead--
Broken apart by the wild waters,
Forgotten and ignored.
Don't look for me; I'm already dead--
Shed from chokes that suffocate,
Dropped through an empty pathway
Like a tear just weighted down.
Don't come for me; I'm already dead--
Gone right after one last plunge
To pierce this still and tranquil sea,
Aroused with many shivers.
Why long for me? I'm already dead!
Don't drag me back to exile,
So let me sink down to the depths
Swallowed and embraced.
What treasure do you hope to find
When erosion eats me away?