©Arwen LeQuieu
There was smoke in the skies
My pride, a million pieces at my feet
And I wept aloud as I wandered
The tattered pieces of my past clinging round my body
Scars and scabs crisscrossing the heart
New blood and old blood dried where there should be tears
And always that horrible ringing sound.It was in the dark time of my soul
That Truth stood naked before me
Every avenue I ran down he stood waiting
Intorrible grace, I couldn’t look into his eyes
He asked for my pride, held out his scarred hand
You don’t understand, I said
These pieces are precious to me, they’re all I have left
But with reasonable discourse He was not persuadedSo He pursued me into the witches hut
With a mixture of anguish and anger
Watched me offer up a chant for magical powers
Still unrelenting He followed me to the temple
Where His eyes flashed with fire
As I laid an offering at the alter of war
And prayed for strength from my golden god
When I saw Him watching my gut twisted in fear
Leave me alone, I screamed
I don’t want your guilt and pain
Truth bled a little then
Now it’s you who doesn’t understand, He said,
I want your guilt and pain
But you won’t give it up
I want your rags and wounds
But you seem to love your wardrobe so much
He went off a little, then and waited just beyond my site
While I pondered the things he said
I bemoaned my fate
The colorless vision of the day
and the blood red fears of night
The agony of not knowing who I was meant to be
And the sleepless nights of apathy
I wanted to die then in the anguish of my soul
But Truth, it turns out, would not let me go
I called out to Suicide to come and take me away.
Gladly he came but quickly he left when he saw Truth’s shadow over me.
I was alone in the crowd of people
When he grabbed a hold of me
“I will not pursue you any longer.”
Tired of the dance of pain and deceit
I threw myself down at His feet, discarding pretenses.
The demon under my skin was lead
Away to the gallow, hung and buried before my eyes
And then my bone were on fire
My very marrow felt it, the pain of the release.
Falling over into the arms of a God
My God.
One reply on “Testimony”
Powerful and moving — and I don’t even like poetry.