Pray For Me

I’m as confused as time itself

Not sure if I’m the bullet; or the gun

A psychosomatic trigger;

Pulled by the metaphysical

Fingers in my head;

I play my symphonies on skeleton keys

Wound in cobwebs, fickle as the womb

where God’s cup hath already spilled.

I am the unborn jackal,

Sheathed but sharp

as sweet mercy.

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Published on Monday, October 1, 2012. Filed under: "Poetry"

Comments on "Pray For Me"

On Sunday, October 7, 2012, NikesRain (1240) wrote:

loved the language and texture of this... aged satin and new linen... impossible not to touch and feel this work...glad to see you posting again
A former member wrote: The last line made me shiver with foreboding. I arched my back and bared my teeth. There is cynicism here, but it is softened with exquisite wording. I can't say all I want to, because nothing more is coming out. - Insert leaving comment here. -
On Monday, October 1, 2012, Guillotine (168) wrote:

Thankyou for your feedback and support :)
On Monday, October 1, 2012, Invisible Girl (134) wrote:

like you style... well done
On Monday, October 1, 2012, Nehema (958) wrote:

Wow, glad you came back, I'd never have found you otherwise. I love reading deep philosophical poetry. " A psychosomatic trigger; Pulled by the metaphysical Fingers in my head; " - brilliant - XXOO
On Monday, October 1, 2012, Star (879) wrote:

wow much loved, great write (: