Coming to the surface

Unclean

I sense a fire deep within me,

That consumes me, that wastes me,

I long for fresh waters, chilly ice,

Sainthood to free me from the vice.

All day shouting and piercing the heavens

With silent blasphemy and passive cuss,

I search for the righteousness of the heathens

And expect it to quench my lust.

I extended my hand to the unreachable

And I kneeled because of my ignorance,

Adding transgressions to my penance

I stopped aiming for the pinnacle.

I looked at the Supreme One and I burned,

I died and He has resurrected me to life,

To new life I rose and learned

I was to be continually reborn in the strife.

Horrific prospect of having to die again –

In duty and virtue, the fruit is worthy,

I shall eat the apple like the first man

When my body's clean and my soul is healthy.