Acolyte (Poetry)

27th August 2017
Who was your God —
fickle-hearted old man?
What did he stand for?
What was his name?
Who did you curse
and who did you blame
when the walls came tumbling down?

Did you pray to him often?
Did you make sacrifice?
Was it duty or pleasure?
How sharp was the knife?
Did you fast and feel holy
or gorge on your sin?
How soon were you tempted
to throw the towel in
when another new god hit town?

Who was the captain
of your turntable soul?
Did he promise you heaven
or swallow you whole?
Did he offer salvation
some time up ahead
and are you still waiting
the church circus gone dead —
left alone in the ring — a lost clown?

Whose was the symbol
you carved on your door?
Why the stigmata?
Why whip the flesh raw?
If love is a punishment
why crave for more?
Far kinder, perhaps
to give in and drown ...

Where was your God
you poor confused man
in the dead of the night
when you needed a hand?
Did he come to your aid
when the shit hit the fan?
Did he roar like a lion
or bleat like a lamb?
Why the silence
and deepening frown?