Purgatory

Its almost like drowing,

flooding the lungs

as though they were aqua ducts.

 

It isn't the misery that chokes

but Hope

that's tightly strung its noose

around our necks.

 

Earths hemmoraging

from a once sacred place.

 

An agony so sweet,

its worth bitting

your tongue over.

 

It tastes like prayer

 

even though

absolution has been bled

from our veins.

 

We still hold vidgels

for it at our alters.

 

A Purgatory

in which we suspend ourselves

because we believe

in our heart of hearts

 

that not knowing

was always the lesser

of two evils.

 

But as we were strung up

higher

by our own faith;

Devestation tickled

our toes

 

licking the souls.

Author's Note

Ots raw please excuse the errors.

Reviews

[Rob Santana]

This is an interesting piece, I like the way you put your words together. Errors excused, haha.