torture taught ya nothing
you opened up to it
with bleeding lips and bloody palms
and the faint taste of vinegar
mixed with the waters of sweat
from the bars
of scars on your arms
salty tears invade the red carnation‘s bloom
in scarlet ripples
pulsing madly with final heartbeats
laid to rest upon your chest in the tomb
browned with age and charred with rage
burnt and smoldered
in licorice whipped and twisted smiles
passing as the frail forms of life
dying within seconds of birth
crying tea time along with promises
of good and plenty
and good lord forgive what can or can't be
as if your song was one of mirth
only to be sucked from the nipples
placed below the chest of mother earth
in caverns where even
the mice and bats disperse
and worms sex within sex to themselves
converge to emerge yet never dare converse
for seeing may be believing
though i can't recall receiving
what it was the blind man does
when caught when caught there grieving
and a woman's wail is never done
till the still night's chill absorbs the son
ma while stepping lightly
upon your own calling grave
gave up the ghost which none dare save
bow now your head
for this is done
to rise and fall
as always, just as the sun
9/06/02 6: 22: 22pm E.S.T.
Stephen Warren Williams
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-crucifixion-9/
