nathanael.ink

I put myself between
wrath and mercy, pleading to be
swallow up in each.
I pray to Whom
all fiery dwells and all mercy
pours still; as if from His veins
out His open flesh marred
by ill intending men who
praying for justice, condemn their names…

But who could know it when the end punctures the thin skin yoke of sky
and the sun like blood weeps like a Man in gardens pleading for who may bare His cup…

they are fools
and I am like them with intent
to be saved and leave unsaved
the fools with intent to be free
and stay in chains
simultaneously.