The knife is buried deep
plunged right in my chest
and I fear to pull it out
lest I die again.

falling falling all the way
the rocks and ice and snow
falling falling every day
this is how we go.

I did not stop to fight
And so I lost myself
and prying eyes have taken much
and here I am again.

But if I cry to God above
will He even care?
and all the world just laughs on by
and here I am again.

Chains have many forms to take
and take they will your soul and joy
as you toil do you hear?
Do you feel their heavy weight?

Save me master; come and see.
I am lost by my own hand
and though another locked me fast
I have thrown the key from land.

Will you leave me to myself
To die and bring you shame?
Will the rocks cry out to you
and praise your holy name?

Though I die I would live
crucify the old man now
make of me what you will
I trust you see I know not how.


13 thoughts on “Slave

    1. I am realizing (or is it remembering) that so many others feel the same way I do– and that reading something expressing that is a boon to them. I had forgotten that in my narcissistic attempts at catharsis.

      1. i would never think of you as narcissistic – we all attempt to find “the way” and that is exactly what you’re doing. your writing is superb – whether it’s light or dark, it takes my breath away. i am grateful you share your talent.

  1. Wow, this is amazing. So many good lines, it would take a page for me to type them all. I’ll just say what I know of Him–HE is Faithful to answer our cry; He is Present and Able. God bless you Big in the New Year, lovey–toasting at midnight with a glass of diet Pepsi (or maybe just a tiny wine punch)–Cheers! Caddo

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