In the days when often I am lost in my Great Depressive state, I wonder a lot about pain and hurt, and the yearning sadness of Man. Would ever I sought forgiveness for wrongs I’ve done in the past, how would ever I be forgiven? From these moments of pain I beg for Mercy to free me at least from my lengthy depressive state.
A Poem for Mercy
In the end, my Lord,
Our lives got sucked out
Crushed by your jackboots
On the gray roads to Hades
And now as we stand before you
Naked before your throne
All that remains of our mocked souls
Carried away over these slouching hills
On the breasts of fallen angels.
Lord, give us no water to drink
Nor food to quench our hunger
As our body glimmers
With sores from the Flagellant’s whip.
Instead of death,
Carry me to Calvary
Nailed to a cross
And let my skin rot
To the dust from whence it crawled from.