Wash My Hands Of You O’Anger

Walk the other way –
I’m told.
I’m told, walk;
the other way.

I don’t listen.
Here comes the trouble.
Inside, a healing, a
deliverance yearns from
the pain.
The pain,
explodes.
Broken pieces,
everywhere.
Shattered.
Into a million pieces.
Hello anger.

I wash my hands of you,
anger.
I need to overcome you,
anger.
My enemy,
anger.
My enemy,
is me,
my anger.

My heart loves,
loves to anger.
I’m told-
be slow to anger;
but the anger loves
to anger.

I curse this flesh;
this mind, my soul.
My soul takes on,
the flesh. The flesh,
is winning.

I wash my hands of you,
anger.
My broken, scarred hands.
Time is running out.
I wash my hands,
of you anger.
O’ anger.

O’ anger, you seek to destroy me,
to tempt me,
to fulfill your purpose;
you will win the battle…
…but I will win the war.
I wash my hands of you.

Anger.

I will re-open your wounds,
your bleeding, infested,
wounds.
I will re-open your wounds,
and expose you,
the worm.
O’ anger.

These wounds will heal;
they will heal.
Heal.
They will.

Let love overpower,
let love heal;
let love overcome.
Anger.

Hear the cries,
let the rains wash away.
See the way out,
run;
in faith.

Pray for me.
Pray for my faith.
Pray for my overcoming.
Pray that I am deemed worthy.
I will never be
worthy, I am not.
Pray for my faith.
Pray for me.

-path of a Saint

#poetry

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