Ask Not of Me
By thepawn
I pray for a cloud of dust To blind my mind's eye From the sight of your discord. Give me one reason to turn away From dreams that haunt me, From this task that daunts me. Parishioners preach the word: 'Dust does only settle On the fools who only lie. Never on the wings of Daring fools who fly.' Fly too close to the sun And burn. No, don't expect the moles To chase the adversary away. Rest assured that with your clout You could find a Bethlehem star To lead you to your heart's desire. Just don't ask me For gifts in the stead of All the days you've left to fade away. No, don't even Pour salt on the wound, Which has been carelessly dealt. No, don't even Try to embrace the earth When the locusts come For the honey you've defiled In blind mirth. Ask not for earth, sun, or heaven Ask not of me. Merely sit with tortured face And sinner's blood, Don't even ask for succor With the judgment on your head. In my eyes, you are dead.revised 02/01/2002 - "Parioshioners preach the word: / '. . .'" absent in prior version Written December 16th, 2001 © on Dec 16 2001 04:58 AM PST 10 • 0
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"I pray for a cloud of dust..."