Lay me down before your god,
whom you picked out of a hat
when all hope was lost.
Make me the sacrificial lamb
who you lay on an altar,
knife at the ready.
Put that knife to my throat,
trace a line for death
out of desperation
Now slice deep,
so that your sinful ways
may be forgiven
And force me to my knees
screaming your prayers
out of gutless fear.
(22nd July 2013)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poetry"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
