Until The End - Poem by Isabel Kestner
Too often I am fed
only my inadequacies.
My right arm too weak to hold
up the ceiling. And in the left
my still-born son.
My legs that could not run fast
enough to catch my ghost as
she left me.
I could not be nourished on these.
My weakness ever starving me.
Yet, constant is my blood pulsing,
never surrendering. Even after defeat.
Even after I am captured.
Always, the sacrifice dies screaming,
kicking violently at the face of God.
Once she is tied to the stake, and
the torch is pressed to the timber
the vow is made stronger. Fire
burns belief hotter.
The damned cannot alter allegiance.
It is too late. Conviction is forever.
This is my strength: In all of my
failure, I have not surrendered.
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