Monologue (of a priest passing away)
(MM 03/08)

Secrets in the dark, whispers in the night
Intoxicating words of salvation.
Burning in your mind, the dying flesh enthrals
To falter on your way to avoid damnation.

The pulsing guilt, eternal regret,
To hide the will to dominate
“Love me like no other...”

There was a dying man
Full of bitterness and hate
So unlike the idolized
Bastard son of God.

As eternity unravels
In a single passing moment
So small and fragile appears
The chapel of his soul.

Can you see the misled flock?
Where are all the lost lambs
You guided in to the night...

...Eyes covered with empty promises?

Can you feel them greeting you
To the bliss of unleashed desires
on the other side
Or disappearing into vacuum?

So powerful and confident
guarding the gates and secret words,
A devotee with a golden cross
Of a religion thriving on the loss.

Sworn to walk on emptiness
Where stepping stones are tomes of lies.
Envious he bred the malcontent
To the world of the living.

“Once one has seen God, what is the remedy?”*
Can you wash away the seas of blood
And blame it on his mysteries?

Worms named by Men,
In your pity and self-disgust,
Point your fingers to the skies
(And) forget from where we fell.

There is no black nor white
Only different shades of grey.
Only colours of the ashes
Scattered on your grave.

The pulsing guilt, eternal regret,
To hide the will to dominate
“Love me like no other...”

*(Sylvia Plath 1932–1963)

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