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The Parasite's Prayer

Thu, 10/02/2014 - 7:00am

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A poem born of life's frustrations.

Finding time in the midst of my aggression,
pent and panting for release,
to remember my own imperfection
in relation to the King's shadow I dwell in.

Without a clear vision of my decay
I inevitably slip into frustration,
to judgement,
to strife.

I desire a pure stake
to drive into my sin,
destroying my vampiric tendency
to prey on my neighbors,
and bury my selfish nature.

Nothing comes from inbred jealousy
but despair rebounding inward.

Nothing brings me pleasure
when I indulge my own pettiness.

Paradoxical joy may only come
with drowning my flesh in Christ.