Recherché

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I sit amongst my dreams

in the graveyard of my mind

like Legion – no chains can bind me

Tormented by my failings

as a father – as a man

a husband, lover, friend…

walking with the dead

into the mist

leaving society…

 

Pacing slowly towards eternal insanity

chanting in unison

sharing candlelit pitiful piety

with aged knights

wearing armour

that has rusted into futility

stopping neither arrow nor sword

my heart pierced by steel

no crown of thorns

as I cling to the cross

thirsty for my saviour’s blood…

 

Forever carrying the splinters, the scars

of infinite salvation

offered freely – yet costing all

morality of the highest order

expected – demanded

countered by universal grace

judgement defeated – vanquished

 

My feet bleeding

from walking on flint

knowing like Joab

I will be struck down

clinging to the altar of the Lord…

 

 

by M.C. Bolton, August 2019,

photo of Bole Hill Quarry, Peak District by OG

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