A hundred years we trifle

 

 

piercing through the night
is the everlasting veil of heaven
like the sun always here
observing.

i am just a man
without his coat of pride
amidst this rain of guilt.

My sins are labeled on my skin,
I suffer rotting flesh.

If only angels can feel my pain
there among the stars
they feel the love of God.

To us, all life is but a test
we last
enduring brief mortality.

How would they know what its like
surrounded
like the air, this intoxicating evil.

Alive I want to fight, and steal,
and take, and kill, and mock,
and drink this alcohol, and yet
hold on, to love above
the need for drugs in lungs
and veins and pupils red.

How would they know.

A single day of cold hunger.

A hundred years we trifle
before the doors of heaven.

A hundred years to learn
to love instead of hate
and give up evil ways.

Dear Lord, you know,
living is so difficult--
alone, we drop dead into a corner.

Our bones remain forever.

10.19.22