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David McLansky

Rookie - 438 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

Jesus in the Dungeon

Down in the Dungeon
in the grey stone Keep,
They shoved me down
Cut stone steps steep;
They locked me in
This fetid hole;
Naked to
The gnawing cold;
The walls are hard
And from them seep
My only water
Save what I weep;
I lick the coarse
Rough hewn stone,
Sealed in darkness,
All alone.

Sad lonely hours
I howled my name,
'The Nazarene, '
I howled in vain;
I live my Father,
Entombed, forsaken,
Beyond your power,
My spirit shaken;
I live with rats
Who bite my flesh;
I cannot sleep
I know no rest;
They smell the blood
Of my wounds;
They sniff and scratch,
'Mid my dark tomb;

Is this my sum,
My destiny;
To starve to death
In ignomy? '
If I'm to die,
Let there be light,
Let me be held
In Your eyesight;
Not in this dark
Forgotten room;
So asks Your Son,
Here so entombed.

Submitted: Monday, March 24, 2014
Edited: Monday, March 24, 2014

Topic of this poem: love hurts

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