chronicles of exile III:[crucified in the flesh]
sadistic is the twist asserted at the altar of stone
bedrock sheets held concretely between folds of skin owned
as i groan, inhaling mists of dust and renegade lust
sanctify me, i would prefer to combust into ash
but instead stash the sword into the bone of human nature
nomenclature departs from the stark raving mad world of reality
my stature is lacking in character in trying to avoid placement on the table
unable to remove myself from deviant rapture
an emerald mask is captured in suffering
this throne will not remain empty for long, a flask set upon my lips
dipped are the fingers into misinterpretation leaving a burning sensation
do not misread my deeds of humiliation, resistance is not appreciated
on the basis of negotiation, united with omission
in the commission of crimes while in exile, excommunicated
dated is the sin promulgated, maybe a hallmark of deficiency
though i have proficiency for wielding internal suppression
succumbing to palatable depressions as the monks stand by and pray
chanting, “send her far away,” i will not scramble for mercy
pursed are my lips, though i ramble in dysfunction
bleeding at this junction in two positions as i transition
awkwardly into one of me, providing a last supper for you
natural unification is due, though i do not sleep voluntarily
my entity becomes enmeshed, as i become crucified in the flesh…
~~~~~~~~
“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves –
regret for the past and fear of the future.”
~
©tk 3.18.2009
