Like a moth I've made pilgrimages
and battered my face
against the rays of stars
to feel their grace,
their language of silence
that my tongue cannot break.
I've found expanses
too far for wings
or fingers to touch.
I've bent and scraped my hands
tearing down the walls
for angels, seen the giant disappear
laughing over the mountain;
stood dumbly at the broken cross
of a light I do not understand.
One day like flies
the words will crawl
then I will be
heaven teases by a moonbeam's shine,
while hell's dark promise hides it's design
with the bright sun boiling in
broken doll, bat your soulless eyes;
wooden boy, tell your pitiful lies;
my soul, my love, they cannot fly,
beaten down, despite all they try.
none hear my anguished cries
while inch by inch, my heart does climb
only to be cast down