Vile AirA Poem by TheUnforgivinFallenAngel
Ventilate my mind, dear God!
The air so vile within To catch what beauty still survives. Awakend from what slumber - I rifle through stuffy chambers Without mercy for the fragile dreams, Without respect for the aged. Oh Merciful God! This soul submits itself for fumigation Deliver me Sense of world renewed With all her innoscents. Oh Father, I have become what I condemned, Decrying with too load a voice! The proudly critical eye soon cloudsto all And must at last turn inward to the fear. For how long with ears muffed against The danger, have I heard only the ceaseless ravings Of the cage, only the hollow voice of justification, Of vain, unanswerable prayer? Yet Father, had I not resisted them at all, then Wouldn't the innervileness have been greater? When the --Air-- the very essence of my breath And being-- was filled with their corruption? No death is grimmer than suffocation In the tomb. Far too long have I held my breath in dread of Burial premature. When all I needed Was some form of gas mask. A filter against the Age. Sweet Lord of Redemption! Grant me the meekest ignorance That I may Live! Let me longer smell their sophisticated scents And vain perfumes--even as I breathe. Let me look beyond their pillagings in the names of Progress and Enlightenment That I may witness Beauty in the trees! Oh Father, I repent most humbly At your burnished foot of gold I request of Thee the glittering wealth Of Spirit you send only to your most righteous. I have unwillingly resisted, unto darkness Of the tomb, the deflilers of your cherished earth. The bathtub it is filled To cleans me of this Dark unreasoning. No one has been spared from this ungodly whirl of mockery Nether you. Nor I. Nor They. © 2011 TheUnforgivinFallenAngelReviews
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5 Reviews Added on April 25, 2011 Last Updated on April 25, 2011 Author
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