Prophesize

me43

Prophesize

My altar has become my poem
My prayer is now my poetry
My life a chronicle in verse,
One more attempt to honor thee,

It’s not as though I asked for this
Nor was this fate my own request,
Just like a job that someone gets,
It’s now responsibility,

If you had given something else
To satisfied this urge in me
I might have served you otherwise
Forgetting rhyme and imagery,

Instead, you’ve left me one last gift
And crucified the rest of me
So that I’ll spend my days with words
To prophesize your history,

My poem has become my song
My lover now my poetry,
It’s not as though I asked for this
Wise woman you’ve made marry me.

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