Author Information
Grudges
I know the hot coal will
scorch my flesh if I hold it
yet I do anyway for
the inferno from which it
was born is divine.
The holy power of
unquenchable destrution
rushes through my heart
like a mountain brook;
clear and ice cold
a salve to the
parched throat bellowing
for retribution to
those who've slighted me
and forgotten my face.
Forgiveness eludes my grasp
like a frightened mouse
sheathed by the blackness
of the night in whice
the wise owl forgets
for what it hungers.
If I say I'm sorry
will God forgive my transgressions
or smite me down with
the vengeful heart I've
built with stolen gears?
