Resolve

As deep as this knife

cleaves a canyon in my chest,

As clear as my ribs protect my lungs,

As futile their structure to withstand this force,

Sickness infiltrates the body any which way it can.

The symptoms portray the rotten core

Of my physical being;

Doubled over in agony

And gasping for clean air.

My mind is marinated in the pain of living,

How can a soul breathe amidst

The taunts of the healthy and wealthy?

The corrupt successes who would

Sell a thousand families for a two-door fridge.

Has my service incurred wrath?

Does my secret wretchedness stain

The good I try to display?

I know I deserve this toil but surely

They deserve to serve the contagious with smiles.

But,

As deep as this knife

Cuts a canyon in my chest,

As pure as I am defiled,

As wide as this sickness spreads, and still wider,

And as honest, more honest than my pride wont let me be,

Is your compassion for the bleeding.

For you desire to know me

And for that you give me strength,

You desire an intimacy that

Emulsifies all infecting hate,

Your outrageous forgiveness gives

All I need not to resent and

Not to wallow in this self-pity.

Your majesty is revealed in

Socially bizarre service and

Psychologically nonsensical sacrifice

And I, willingly, kiss the ground before your feet

And know security.

An attempt at an lament with resolve, December 2010.