Monday, 16 October 2017

May I be Purposed?

Have I sufficiently
Walked the fated mile
That then
Dawns the morn
Of execution

Fixation on immortality
Then, nailed to a tree
Puny cries
Of self-concern
Dashed upon the rocks
I feel the force
Of the winds 
Of change
The raging infernos
That raze the land
Burn within 

Guide me

I can 
No longer bare
The weight 
of futility
You know the way
You have a way
You are the way

Show me 

My creator 
I implore you
Direct my heart
Make thee use 
Mine sinew & bone
Both yours 
To be 
By your will

Free me 
From the bondage
 Of a tyrannical
That weaves
A smothering quagmire
Of immobilization
What's mine
Is your's anyway
Put you then
To good use


R. O'Neill (October 16, 2017)

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