Post by anirbas on Oct 9, 2006 17:57:25 GMT -6
[or I'm Not Jesus Christ...]
i.
Contrary, to popular opinion, your's...
I do not think, I'm Jesus Christ...
A prophet, or society's favorite victim...
For if I'm the Second Coming...
You'd better bend over
and kiss your ass goodbye...
Because, in that event,
we are all, in major trouble...
I'm not mechanically inclined...
I can't fix or build a dratted thing...
And to date, I havn't walked on water...
ii.
No, I'd beg to differ, I think I'm Jesus Christ...
But, I do feel like, I'm going through the motions,
of ripping myself loose, one iron spike at a time-
and climb-sobbing-crawling in a downwards spiral,
from a lofty, splinter laden cross...
Reversed scandence, head first,
like a wounded lizard...
I'm tired...I'm tired of hanging here...
Twisting in the wind, twisting in the wind...
Trapped, while you try to re-make
me into something...some thing...
I don't want to be...
Your favored whipping post...
Martyr of the day...
Or worse, sacrificial
victim of the night...
iii.
No, I'm not Jesus Christ...
Jesus, would still love you...
Me, I'm only human...I hate you...
And there is no residual love,
on the flip side of that emotional coin...
Only more of the same...More of the same...
Still, I'd rather see you blessed than cursed...
I hold no ill will, within me, for you...
I just hate you, for piledriving
me to this fucking cross...
No, matter how hard I fought,
while you did the deed...
But, I've got one hand loose...
And the other hand, half torn off,
it's flat-headed, iron stake...
iv.
Someday, you will look up,
and I will have disappeared...
Leaving nothing more than mementos
of myself, upon this cross...
Bloodstains, bits of flesh and skin,
strands of hair...I wonder...
Whom will you hate, then?
Who will become the next victim,
of your unmitigated, everlasting anger
and emotionally stunted ignorance?
~Sabrina.
12/2005
i.
Contrary, to popular opinion, your's...
I do not think, I'm Jesus Christ...
A prophet, or society's favorite victim...
For if I'm the Second Coming...
You'd better bend over
and kiss your ass goodbye...
Because, in that event,
we are all, in major trouble...
I'm not mechanically inclined...
I can't fix or build a dratted thing...
And to date, I havn't walked on water...
ii.
No, I'd beg to differ, I think I'm Jesus Christ...
But, I do feel like, I'm going through the motions,
of ripping myself loose, one iron spike at a time-
and climb-sobbing-crawling in a downwards spiral,
from a lofty, splinter laden cross...
Reversed scandence, head first,
like a wounded lizard...
I'm tired...I'm tired of hanging here...
Twisting in the wind, twisting in the wind...
Trapped, while you try to re-make
me into something...some thing...
I don't want to be...
Your favored whipping post...
Martyr of the day...
Or worse, sacrificial
victim of the night...
iii.
No, I'm not Jesus Christ...
Jesus, would still love you...
Me, I'm only human...I hate you...
And there is no residual love,
on the flip side of that emotional coin...
Only more of the same...More of the same...
Still, I'd rather see you blessed than cursed...
I hold no ill will, within me, for you...
I just hate you, for piledriving
me to this fucking cross...
No, matter how hard I fought,
while you did the deed...
But, I've got one hand loose...
And the other hand, half torn off,
it's flat-headed, iron stake...
iv.
Someday, you will look up,
and I will have disappeared...
Leaving nothing more than mementos
of myself, upon this cross...
Bloodstains, bits of flesh and skin,
strands of hair...I wonder...
Whom will you hate, then?
Who will become the next victim,
of your unmitigated, everlasting anger
and emotionally stunted ignorance?
~Sabrina.
12/2005