“A man like me, is dead in places”…

Please welcome Jon as my latest Guest Poet.  You can read more of his work here:

http://noblethemes.me/about/

If you would like to feature as a Guest Poet, please email your words to me at eyewillnotcry@hotmail.co.uk

Cheers

a_moment_of_despair_by_fantaasiatoidab-d6jmhk31

My only friend is darkness.

My God, my mothering God, why have you forsaken?
Why are you so far, when despair my life has taken?

All through the day I call on you, the Everlasting;
I stretch my hands to heaven, weeping and fasting.

Imprisoned in the darkness in the deepest abyss,
No friendly soul, no sound relieves my loneliness.

Shattered pieces of my life lay ugly on the ground;
Dust settles slowly, covering me without a sound.

What have I done, my God, to incite your anger?
Whom have I hurt to place my soul in such danger?

Yet you have cast me down into the lowest grave;
Will you not now hear me, my very life to save?

Dying shards are scattered unforgiving in the wind;
Snaking sinews crawling round each and every bend.

Why do you cast me off and reject me, my Lord?
In terror you unsheathe your double-edged sword.

Your wrath sweeps over me like the terrible flood
As I plead the mercy of your beloved Son’s blood.

This dark prison is mine, and my very own alone,
And my shepherdess calls not in passion’s tone.

Like corpse in the grave, long buried, forgotten;
Left no stone or mark, nor tears for the ground;

Thrown down by your hand, crushed and broken,
And my maiden of grace shall hear not a sound.

My God, my mothering God, why have you forsaken?
Why are you so far, when despair my life has taken?

But my only friend is darkness.

 

4 responses to ““A man like me, is dead in places”…

  1. It’s very sad when people depend on a god to give them what they need. Or feel this god has rejected them, as if they did something wrong. Placing blame for the human condition on the belief of a supernatural power… When they’re happy, their god is benevolent. When they despair, their god is anonymous, unforgiving, and mean. With all due respect to those who believe in a god, this seems like a recipe for unhappiness to me.

    • All-too-human, my friend. Belief in the numinous, the supramundane is at least as ancient as the Homo Habilis; besides, this poem was written very much in the vein of Romanticism (or, at least, an attempt.) Thank you for your comment, though! And “blessings” to you and yours.

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