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Christi Mancha Poem
Despair.
It creeps into your soul slowly, taking it inch by inch.
Quietly.
In silence it stalks the farthest reaches of your mind, the places where
Hope tries to hide.
It lurks in shadow, waiting for long years, not deterred by time or
Human psychology
It watches lustily and remembers all your naked shame
It reaches out its bony hand and gently strokes your face, offering
Friendship
“Come with me” it beckons the weary traveler, “I will give you rest.”
And violently it breaks the world.
Is anything stronger than this?
Indeed, for despair is not so strong as it is patient and deceitful.
Love is the Truth that can bring despair to its knees,
Send it scurrying back to the dark pit from whence it crawled
Trailing its lies behind
“But I loved,” you say, “and still he died.”
Would that you could understand
It is not mere human love, which perceives the need
To say it will be okay when it really won’t
That says
You deserve to be happy
You are worthy
Hollow platitudes
No, it is the love that knows the deepest recess of your
Broken heart
That reads your every thought,
Sees past your façade and knows your unrepentant
Pride, greed, jealousy, slander and glee
And every action done in the dark, caring only for the moment of pleasure
Though it wounded someone’s soul or body or both
Even, if only, your own
And understands completely your guilt and bore it
It is the love that says, though you are unworthy,
Yet still do I remove your shame
And is the lifter of your head
Look, look, oh, please look
I
Am
Begging
You
Please look into the face of that love
Because
That is the Love that is Truth.
Copyright © Christi Mancha | Year Posted 2015
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