The Cry of The Atoning (Prayer)

Death has such a sordid grip
over vice, inevitable slip
Contemplating life effect
Conscious now of the neglect.

Struggling does seem absurd
When one struggles against one’s word
The strongest chains are of the mind
That cut at soul and long to bind.

Flesh now sold to a god
Wanton need, measured odd
This place exists between
Where reality fades and dream is seen.

In this time and in this heart
What better place than now to start
To battle against flesh and bone
Soulful will, I do atone. 

-11/30/09, MR