Wednesday, 1 April 2015


My haughty spirit arrived,
In a long hall, All white;
Blinding self and wiping the smirk
Long etched in the granite heart of mine
Infront of me was a king-
For he was enthroned,
 with an endless entourage
Yet I doubted.

For my eyes could not behold
That from which the hosts hid their visage.
 this king, was naked
And his crown uncomf’table
 it dug into his scalp and shed red rays.
Yet his serene countenance sought
To comfort me for his pain.

His regal gait was unaffected
By the fresh wounds that bled
And dropped stains on the snow-white floor,
I watched it meander to form branches
Exending farther than my sight.
I was broken.

His eyes were a pool of fresh life
When our gaze met.
Yet his hosts could not lift theirs
His trembling hands handed me
A chalice of the purest gold
stained by his sticky prints of blood
His fingers too bruised and crooked
To have a firm grip.
I took it mechanically for I’d become
A lump of shivers.

He spoke in a resounding voice
 from the beginning of time
“I saved it for you,
For the health of your body,
Even your spirit and soul.
Make it count.”
With trembling hands I pass on
The chalice with the savior’s blood
That the next person might be saved.