02-23-2015, 04:03 AM
With ageing sinews strained by days,
hard stretched and sprained beyond repair,
out from the scream of Munch's night,
comes forth the unexpected prayer.
That god might slip into the gap
between a life of constant pain
and moments only salved by sleep
and even that, a dreamer's bane,
is not enough to pour belief
into the analgesic pot.
Each twinge that twists is small distress.
What hurts us more than faith is not
the forlorn hope that by our prayers
the agonised will be relieved
but that at best, with grimaced grace,
we by forgiveness are reprieved.
Forgiven for the withered limb,
the shake that marks us in a crowd,
the crooked spine, the humped-up back,
the coprolalic curse out loud.
Some claim a deity above who will,
once called, make sick souls well;
distrust though those, the pious few,
who love their god then kiss and tell.
Create your lord and tailor him,
into a myth so all can see;
for "Oh My God" is sinful pride...
you made him yours, make one for me.
tectak
2013
Original
With ageing sinews strained by days, hard stretched and sprained beyond repair,
out from the scream of Munch's night, comes forth the unexpected prayer.
That god might slip into the gap between a life of constant pain
and moments only salved by sleep (and even that, a dreamer's bane),
is not enough to pour belief into the analgesic pot.
Each twinge that twists is small distress. What hurts us more than faith is not
the forlorn hope that by our prayers, the agonised will be relieved
but that at best, by grimaced grace, we by forgiveness are reprieved.
Forgiven for the withered claw, the shake that marks us in a crowd,
the crooked spine, the humped-up back,the coprolalic curse out loud.
Some claim a deity above who will, once called, make sick souls well;
distrust though those, the pious few, who love their god then kiss and tell.
Create your lord and tailor him, into a myth that all can see;
for OMG is sinful pride...you made him yours, make one for me.
tectak
2013
hard stretched and sprained beyond repair,
out from the scream of Munch's night,
comes forth the unexpected prayer.
That god might slip into the gap
between a life of constant pain
and moments only salved by sleep
and even that, a dreamer's bane,
is not enough to pour belief
into the analgesic pot.
Each twinge that twists is small distress.
What hurts us more than faith is not
the forlorn hope that by our prayers
the agonised will be relieved
but that at best, with grimaced grace,
we by forgiveness are reprieved.
Forgiven for the withered limb,
the shake that marks us in a crowd,
the crooked spine, the humped-up back,
the coprolalic curse out loud.
Some claim a deity above who will,
once called, make sick souls well;
distrust though those, the pious few,
who love their god then kiss and tell.
Create your lord and tailor him,
into a myth so all can see;
for "Oh My God" is sinful pride...
you made him yours, make one for me.
tectak
2013
Original
With ageing sinews strained by days, hard stretched and sprained beyond repair,
out from the scream of Munch's night, comes forth the unexpected prayer.
That god might slip into the gap between a life of constant pain
and moments only salved by sleep (and even that, a dreamer's bane),
is not enough to pour belief into the analgesic pot.
Each twinge that twists is small distress. What hurts us more than faith is not
the forlorn hope that by our prayers, the agonised will be relieved
but that at best, by grimaced grace, we by forgiveness are reprieved.
Forgiven for the withered claw, the shake that marks us in a crowd,
the crooked spine, the humped-up back,the coprolalic curse out loud.
Some claim a deity above who will, once called, make sick souls well;
distrust though those, the pious few, who love their god then kiss and tell.
Create your lord and tailor him, into a myth that all can see;
for OMG is sinful pride...you made him yours, make one for me.
tectak
2013