Through the crucible of pain,
through the place where body’s torn,
through the dark and bloody stain,
I, myself, have been reborn.
Through the very gates of hell,
through the flames that char my soul,
through to slavery from the well
in which I’m thrown, I am whole.
Through the long and winding road,
through the jaws of drooling death,
through the heart’s true overload
I have found a source of breath.
Though in Hades I may linger
I give the devil my middle finger.
Well, either ‘Lamentations’ or ‘Laminations’, ’cause along the way I got a lot closer to Jesus.
And so I got Lambinated. 😀
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Through the crucible of pain,
through the place where body’s torn,
through the dark and bloody stain,
I, myself, have been reborn.
Through the very gates of hell,
through the flames that char my soul,
through to slavery from the well
in which I’m thrown, I am whole.
Through the long and winding road,
through the jaws of drooling death,
through the heart’s true overload
I have found a source of breath.
Though in Hades I may linger
I give the devil my middle finger.
There’s a Jeremiah quality to this one. I have a title for a book of your poems: “Lamentations of Andrew”.
Well, either ‘Lamentations’ or ‘Laminations’, ’cause along the way I got a lot closer to Jesus.
And so I got Lambinated. 😀