Desire Death Doth the Weak

Desire death do those with weakness, For present circumstances. To climb the face of life is meekness: Behold all of God’s chances. With calloused hands in deep gray nooks, it’s meek to climb. To rest is one step next to death, Not rest from work, but rest to dwell In furlongs of failures, for faith is forgiven. Because these burdens bring expectations No earthly man nor woman could fell. So, lest the hungry rocks below be fed, Grapple north! Nerve lazy ligaments! Long not nervous eyes on bottom bed, Gripping vocal chords cry loud instruments! Like the slimy kinds of wriggling worm Is rottenness inside our being, Oh, I am most aware. Bite lying tongues and spring new form By blood (the Spirits bringing) ‘Fore Heaven’s royal chair. He purposed you to not dwell and fall And spite His gift He gives for all, Nor long loathe innard selfish stall That kills again all-died-for men. Hoist those bones and pray- amen.