Explore Poems GO!


Rating: 4.8
You worship weekly at my altar,
offering your tithes with shouts of glory and painfully silent adoration.
Where do you believe forgiveness dwells?
Is it an attribute, assigned to some and
not others?
Or is it called upon only by the pious and
venerable ones?
I am no martyr but remain steadfastly your greatest believer,
a godly observant of true and childlike faith!
I will not die for your sins, having so many of my own.
No crucifix, no submerging can wash away those stains!
And yet, you remain in the presence of the divine!
On sanctified sheets we sweat, the blessings spilling forth.
I am your promised land of milk and honey,
steadfast, true and waiting, wanting.
I pull you into that sacred place that drips its'dark perfume
like the candles on the altar.
My disciple.My devotee.
You are blessed with the gift of my innocence, taken from me twice in a moments breath.
You are neither saint nor sinner,
merely a beautifully flawed servant to this higher power.
Your desire pulls the unscathed through the flames
my adored supplicant.
Rebuke all that you wish to cast away in this theology of lust, but never faith!
Monday, August 3, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: forgiveness
Jazib Kamalvi 03 August 2020
Such a nice poem, Grace M. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.
0 0 Reply

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

4/12/2021 12:24:18 PM #