Contemplations of a Disturbed Soul

Sin

You did everything for me, plucked
blood lathered blossoms from
Trees I couldn’t reach,
Found them nestled in cold pale leaves,
Took them down,
And gave them to me, why?
I hadn’t anything in return, but you insisted.
That I take your worthless offer.
You did everything for me, tore down
Mountains to build to build a home for me,
You put on a smile and dragged your body
Through rocks and thorns,
And showed me bruises in your flesh
After, why?
I didn’t ask it from you, but you insisted
That I glorify your wounds.
You did everything for me, swatted away
flies from corpses I made
Buried them, burned them, blamed yourself, drank
From the river of my violence, why?
I know it didn’t quench your thirst, but you insisted
That I keep the river alive.
You did everything for me, tore your soul
starved yourself, begged me for salvation,
chased me and hid from me, loved me
and feared me why?
I never wanted you,
You never wanted me,
Yet hidden behind your many gods,
Carved into your countless statues
Written into your endless scriptures,
I, death, was the one you really prayed to
And when I came to take you away,
Your flesh cold, your body
burning, rotting, broken,
Your sins no longer remembered,
Your holiness forgotten,
You did nothing.
~