God’s Scars

 

Insane, just like the dying God

Who feeds me intently on sickening sin

Inflicted pain; pricks from a pin

I’m in a game I cannot win.

 

Bleeding me dry, the tears I cry

The sorrow surrounding, all life is a lie

Cutting and scarring, the things I love most

Gloss over them all with melted hope.

 

Why do I pray to the one so great?

The one who impales me upon his hate

Adorning me with thorny blessings

Teaching me some kind of lesson.

 

Why do you give new life each day

Is it the satisfaction of taking it away?

Is it to see who will desist

From hanging or a slashed up wrist?

 

And tempted with your blades;

Who will resist,

And live beyond the deathly mist.

 

Memento Mori is my name,

Or Incisura; the very same.

So Father, I want to thank you for now and then,

Forever and ever in pain

Amen.

 

 

25.03.02 By Gemma Lansdowne