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Illa-Scriptor — re:considering
Published: 2011-03-01 22:57:06 +0000 UTC; Views: 268; Favourites: 4; Downloads: 4
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Description
the strain shifted theglow of the streetlight
unholy splashes of my
washed up words
and i knew somehow
that the gospel weren't for here
here was for trashcan fires
and refrigerator boxes
even the birds don't sing
when the living breathe death
but maybe i can sing
take up a big ol' lungful
of the devil's finest
and blow out hope
i've got blood in my veins
and on my soul
i'm gonna need both this time
so i can sing
not in plastic steeples
but with real people
because my Lord lived
on the streets
Comments: 6
This is really beautiful. I love how you capture the dirty feel of the world (and life as a whole, sometimes) and turn it hopeful. Especially I like the last two lines and how weighty they seem: "because my Lord lived on the streets." So true, and something that we forget sometimes, and you make it hopeful and wonderful in this context. Lovely work.
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This is absolutely beautiful, and amazing. I wish I could special-favorite it, because it's too... it deserves more than a favorite to be lumped in with the rest of my favorites, I feel.
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Thanks so much, dear!
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