Broken and Contrite

Broken and Contrite

The coin has been flipped

And has at last come to land

And on the rough of the table

It wobbles–won’t stand

 

And all the breathless moments here are called

That there is but one lonely path, and no reason to stall

I tried all the circles that ‘ave ravaged my frame

And all kinds of talk that ‘ave brought blush to my brain

And now jisatsu she sings, sweetly calling my name

Will the it fall on its head and take me to damning judge?

Or will the eagle prevail and on mercy’s wings take me up?

Only time, she will tell, this singular thing

And far off in elsewhere, I can hear the bells ring

Are they playing a dirge fit for the grave?

Or maybe they’re ringing for succor to save?

 

So come Maris and Jude and Michael with Sword

Come sweet broken Lamb whom they nailed to the boards

For my hour has come and my soul’s in your hands

And not a week forward, we’ll meet in your lands

(And when fate finds its purchase–I beg– keep them safe in your hands)

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