The Dying Cleric Poem by Patrick William Kavanagh

Silence echoes deep within,
the long forgotten memories of where I've been.
The truths I can no longer clearly see,
for now the waking dream has blinded me,

Survival seems the only goal,
and pleasure seems to rule my very soul.
What loss is this, this sudden end of bliss,
the apple falls as I am poisoned by the serpents kiss.

Do not touch me,
walk away as if I were diseased and dead
See the open wounds upon my flesh, -
the poison longs to spread.

Do not listen to the words I speak,
For through my foolish words the poison leaks,
Mammon has encased me in his golden grip.
Beelzebub speaks every word that seem to pass from my own lips.

The serpent waits beyond the golden gates.
His glowing eyes will burn you with his fearful hate.
Just trust your heart and listen to the God within.
and do not look to others to decide your fate.

Barnetby Le Wold
14/07/2013