Frankenstein

What am I, a product of a mad man's obsession to play God? A cross breed’s creature between medicine and science? For the whole of my parts taken from convicts, and social rejects, Sown together by skillful hands of a surgeon, with no feeling heart For this his ultimate creation. Life infused by heaven's fire storm from on high, did the lord God's Finger tip's caress against the rocky castle side, electrifying the night With the Almighty’s spark of existence, and so my mortal father Screamed with passions conceit, and this was the very first words, I The beast heard, from my creator's lips, it's a live, it's alive!! What am I, not human nor monster, do I not possess a soul or spirit, Do I not deserve the same rights, as those of humanity, but nay I Am the mocked, and the shunned. Locked behind an iron barred cage, in a cold dungeon’s bricked Lined cradle, I'm left in isolation holding cell, without Human compassion physical touch or empathy mercy. Yelling up ward’s towards a higher power's glory, I beg of him, Pleading for redemption's reclamation, to free me from this Torturous life I've been given, Free me, heavenly father!! But I am more than these lumped together human parts of Refuges misbegotten, for I live, therefore I am, I am man, Not the beast. This I discovered in my silences solitude, when my jailer Gave me a special gift, a book such a simple object, yet It so saved me from madness’ spell, in bold prints Golden lettering I read the title, The Holy Bible. In clarities flickering candle light by night did I so Read, about how a spirit could be uplifted above his mortal Imprisonment, and soar amongst the angels. Once I cursed the day of my own birth, but now I realize to be alive is a great endowment, to be blessed And rejoiced upon. As I reach outwardly through these iron bars anew, I feel the sun's rays for the first time, and know how Precious a thing this really is, to experience its warmth And light. My father, never gave me a name other then it, or the beast, So I will take his, as mine own, behold so shall I be called FRANKENSTEIN!! Made by the fiery finger tips of the lord God himself, Shall ignorance flame by human kind destroy me? But heaven's grace in the written word shall save me, And my immortal essence, and thus I shall be restored On a higher plane's existence, on a farther distant shore, Considered a monster no more. BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN