[thisislife]

How I would wish to be aflame and unquenched–
My thirst legendary amongst these dried dunes of desert lands–
Rather than slosh amongst this purgatory of promises,
Frothing in my impotence.
I would wish to be the burning man
With split ends screaming in my marrow
As though my hair were on fire
And this world were on fire
And my eyes were blood-buzz-shot-blank-wide as anything I have ever known;
As though I’ve been screaming for miles.
I spill myself.
As though I were a bucket, I spill myself.
How I would wish that I could if I mustered the strength to leave this place
With all its blinding light.
After these thousand years east of Eden I am no longer mineral nor vegetable,
And a garden just doesn’t feel like home.
A lawnmower and a box of matches;
I will turn this place into my own flesh and blood
And in the cinders I will smolder,
Burning.

O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest

burning

O Lord Thou singed Thy fingers

And to Carthage I came on wheels of flame
And not even I could stop me.