Behold the lamb
The lamb which is to be slain
Not twelve days hence bore I
This lamb upon my shoulder
Mud and sweat leaching past my brow
The lamb’s wool matted and bloody
Behold the lamb
The lamb which is to be slain
Not twelve days hence bore I
This lamb upon my shoulder
Mud and sweat leaching past my brow
The lamb’s wool matted and bloody
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
The time came for the nail to be removed.
As I made my way to the feast
An alarm came from the tower watchman
Night is coming and chariots are in the gates
But I dast not ignore my lord’s summons
I am a nail in the door of the fold
Entombed in cypress from before my time
Dead and rusty, I go neither in nor out
EXTERIOR ESTABLISHING SHOT DAY
The back lawn of a rustic lodge
In the distance, across an inlet
Late-summer peaks bare of snow
In the foreground
A long emerald hedge
Immaculately groomed
Be forewarned: what follows is written from a very personal and biased perspective, and is not at all intended as normative discourse or prescriptive therapy for others. It may even come off as self-absorbed, blindered, and off the rails. So be it.
Eighteen years with crick in ’er back
Woe ho ho and a wineskin o’ pain
Drink nor the devil will cut no one slack
Woe ho ho and a wineskin o’ pain
A righteous storm you say is coming
A maelstrom of fire and judgment
The strongest among us will burn like straw
And our own evil deeds will spark the blaze
I am not a collector of histories
They do not wedge in my mind
The way gills catch in a net
You came to my door at midnight
asking for snakes
I’m sorry, but I have no snakes for you
I am not sleeping
But no, I have no snakes for you
Lord, who will be allowed into your presence
When you come into your own upon Zion?