As my fever rages on,
I think back to a time where I was healthy.
I cry out in desperation and wonder about where and when it all went wrong.
All in all, I know there is worse
and I know that there is better,
but in my mind I wander on and on
across an endless plain where drought leads to death.
And here I cling to a sacred cactus,
a deserted oasis,
and I feel its prickly sting.
My fingers begin to bleed
and I am brought back into reality.
And just like you I bleed
as I teare into the flesh.
I teare away.
I teare the juicy flesh away from the bone searching for just one trickle of the living, flowing water;
that life that I,
and others like me,
strain and, just so be it, die for.
And as my fever rages on,
I know that I'll soon bloom,
just like the yellow desert flower I was meant to be.
And now I drink a sweeter nectar filled with hope, with love
as my brutality flows freely down my chin.
Like the seraphim I was created to be
and the demon that was bred into my blood from sins long since passed,
I lift my dirty chin
and howl at the moon a sweet, sweet new song. It's a song filled with praises not uttered before. Not in this desert anyways.
This desert is a lonely, barren canyon where no life is borne or bred.
All except the lonely cactus.
And that of the spirit of our Sanctus Real.
Looking at the black sky,
I realize this and my earthen bed is so much more the comfort than when my head first lay upon the red, cracked, dusty clay.
I realized that this place where no single thing can live is where our God,
thrives the most.
Isn't it wonderful?
I breathe in and I breathe out and
I ponder this and commune, and I wish to leave this desert, but I'm not ready yet.
Not in His eyes,
the only ones that matter,
the only ones that are here in this place.
So I sigh and turn my heavy brow,
staring into the long stretch of desert before me,
and take a deep breath.
Wow,such a long road ahead of me.
And it is here that I finally let go
and sleep; I rest.
I rest assured that God holds me in his arms
as that calm blankets me and everything in my little world.
Tomorrow is a better, a new, a different day.
God isn't through with me yet.