The Fists Of Rebellion

 

I will not abide fearful

Of Your lack of approval

Or even if the sincerity

Of my thoughts of You

Are unbecoming to both of us.

 

I will not be led away, tempted

By all that makes You weep.

I will only ponder

Those things I see

And the answers

You refuse to give.

I will wander

Anywhere I please,

Accept any way

I choose to live.

And if I must,

Subsist on bread

Of my own making,

Not faith in You

Knowing that if I am not just

I can expect no justice

To serve me.

 

Everything I deserve

Is everything You want of me

I am but the prey

Caught in the hunt

A spirit ensnared

By everything I do not want

Knowing You only as judge

Never as friend,

Never have I dared.

 

Once more

Despite the harried pace

And danger of the chase

I will raise my hands to You

In anything but praise

For I find my only confidence

With a heart incensed

When my anger is not questioned,

Seeking its satisfaction

Above all else.

If pride is king of self

Then in worshipping

All I deplore

Anger is the valiant prince

Too glorious to ignore.

 

Would You be any more furious

If I were any more enraged?

Would my heart be any more hardened

If my suffering found more excuses

To commit more crimes

For which I couldn’t be any less worthy

To be pardoned?

 

Could Your face

Cast a larger shadow than the one

That shields Your eyes from mine?

Will Your tears

Be any more absent

Than the lack of evidence

I have seen this time?

Could You care any less?!

Could I hurt any more?!

 

I will no longer rest in pretense

Or make a mockery

Of my lack of patience.

I will not bestow

My soul the honor of a saint

When it wears

The crown of a hellion.

These arms

Fashioned by Your hands

Will find the strength

Amidst the ruins

Of this tortured man

To enunciate the agony of my heart,

To elucidate the vitality of my demands,

By shaking before Your very eyes

Even lest I die,

These fists of rebellion.

 

The darkness of the night

Steadily overtakes the gloaming

And drowns my heart with fears.

My feet end their roaming

And words finally fail me.

My silence screams at You

As I make my bed to swim

With the multitude of my tears.

The slowing of time

By the feeble counting of my days

Is interrupted

By Your thoughts of me

Without number

That won’t cease,

Awakening my faith

From its slumber

To the acknowledgment

Of the need I have ignored for years.

My soul’s poverty

Is overwhelmed and transposed

By new mercy found here

In Your presence of peace.

 

Gently Your arms lift my head

Without any resistance.

Softly Your words prod me

Beyond my newfound diffidence

To tread unchartered waters,

To take another chance with You.

Receiving another glance from You

I can no longer distinguish

Between my tears and the rain.

My knees buckle to the point

Of surrender.

 

My hands once raised

In defiance against You

Are now lifted as the evening sacrifice.

With my anger finally extinguished

My heart is offered

As the morning incense

Absent of all pain and strife,

Renewed in innocence and life.

At long last, it is somehow enough

To know Your name is near,

To be willingly relinquished

To your bands of love.