The inquisitor and the mad man

Dear Lord is this your will upon my breath?
A tormented soul with a sad heart;
pain on my dish, sorrow count my wealth,
day like night, steel shade my glass.

I’m He the pain and joy,
I feed on your prayers;
Pain defines my glory,
beg for your sky to unfold.

I raised my voice to the heavens,
with hopeless hopes I prayed;
faith fading, I sung to your deafness,
forgotten, on your feet I laid.

I hear and see,
I save and kill,
Your life, my will;
I made the sea.

I regret, the vain beliefs,
On my own, the earth I tread;
Live and die, below is my relief,
you are just an inquisitor dead in my creed.

Advertisements

#blasphemy, #guts, #life, #poem-2, #poet, #poetry, #truth