Scent in the Air was Rare
She approached from behind
He was rocking slowly and mumbling to himself
He seemed unaware of her presence
But his rocking slowed imperceptibly
Whatever kept him company knew she was near
And she stepped back in fear
She began to speak but paused to search her words
His head tilted slightly as if he knew
She would speak to them soon
His rocking increased and she saw drops of blood on the wood
Dripping from his wrists onto the floor
She stepped back again- closer to the door
The scent in the air was rare
Fear boiled down to what would be left
And then burned and burned
Black as hatred and filling the air
It filled the room although still very rare
She asked about the blood
She asked about the aroma of fear and death
His rocking never paused
And his words mixed with his breath
She moved closer to hear his response
And never saw the dagger in his fist
He was smiling and showing all his teeth
Our Last Station
The world spins and life goes on
We see people we know or knew
And we say words we have said before
All the while we wonder if this is really all there is
Terse love and emancipation
Is the grave our last station?
Stigmata
We wear the scars of life
On our face and in our heart
We bleed the tears
Pierced and dragged
Through Life and Death
Pater noster, qui es in caelis,
Protect us from those who’d destroy us
sanctificetur nomen tuum.
Stay with me at night and in my room
Adveniat regnum tuum.
The bell tolls but for whom?
Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.
Come for me and those I love
Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie,
Pull us from hell and help us rise above
et dimitte nobis debita nostra
One- take control of me
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.
Two- it’s the enemy
Et ne nos inducas in tentationem,
Let me take a ride by myself
sed libera nos a malo.
Crash into a private hell
Quia tuum est regnum, et potentia, et Gloria,
in secula.
Rescued by another life
Amen.
The world spins and life goes on
We hear sounds we used to hear
And we remember all those things that came before
We hear the creak and the slam of the door
The room is cold and I’m alone
Left to feel dark rumination
Is the grave our last station?
Stigmata
We wear the scars of life
On our face and in our heart
We bleed the tears
Pierced and dragged
Through Life and Death