10 Dec Quell the Revolt

Before I pray I accept defeat liked turned undead at nocturnal feast
The witching bolt sears flesh and meat with little left to feed the beast
I passed away on winter’s eve with spindled cords snaked through my lungs
While the passions tried to climb on top with primeval strength and plunge

Down into my hollow but I resist with the flames on course in bloody sludge
And I rise aflame in fast, chastised, and fix my grip to wiry tress of hair
Crushing her and I close my eyes and drag her fighting to forgotten lair
This is wisdom and this is death I take a breath and then I burn in my stare

Force her shaking hands to the board where I take my tools and kill the man
I fasten flaming flesh to scorching log and so I robbed the world Spirit-possessed,
Makes my flesh into Your nest, Death to the world is my one request

Open the heart to the home of health,
Death to mine and to self, holding an immortal wealth
Because the flesh turns to dust and
Rusts in the way time trumpets despoiling us of everything
Until the spirits fly on feathered wing with the courage to sing,
No more time! No more time!
No man could hurl himself at heaven to bring
Himself or anyone home in time.

Be warned, the Lord has seen you and
He takes account of who has met his body in the attack,

So when I drink from fiery fount I turn the world back
To the first and last cut of human cause,
Quell the revolt in your gut with the Holy Torch,
And scorch it all to ash so the uprising ceases to
The choir of thrones in circuit applause,
The fire and bones cut apart by moving saws,
Angels guarding the entrance to heaven furled.
Death to the world, they call, Death to the world is the Life of God.