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Friday, September 13, 2013


 Her feet go down to death;
 her steps follow the path to Sheol;
 she does not ponder the path of life;
 her ways wander, and she does not know it.
(Proverbs 5:5-6 ESV)
A silhouette breaks through the pattern of the bed sheet
And in that moment, I realize that I am in too deep…
But I keep pressing forward with my hands
Because I can no longer make out the lines in the sand

So I become a slave to the senselessness of my senses
Just a taste, a feel, or a touch
And suddenly the voices drown away in the distance
Reminiscent of flying –
Bodies crashing and burning
But the height of the ecstasy
Leaves me wanton and yearning

Because the more that I take
The more that it aches
And the more that the lines become blurred
The less I’m willing to wait
Until I’m crossed-eyed and feverish -
Suffering from strabismus
It’s led me to a duplicitous reality
And a heart that is desperately abysmal

Lusting after lust
Constantly frustrated by trust
Relying on primal instincts of my flesh
To relieve the agony of the rush
As it makes its way to my head
And the things that I’ve hardly ever said
Hunt me down with a vengeance
Love’s not just blind…now it’s dead

And with this ring, I thee wed
Like a noose that hangs from the bedpost
Meshing my affections with the conquests
As I place them on the mantle above my ego
Erotomania claims another victim
Barely a mention; only sealed with a kiss…

Sex is death. Death is sex.
It says it right here on my crucifix.
Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied,
and never satisfied are the eyes of man.
(Proverbs 27:20 ESV)
Soli Deo Gloria,

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