THIS STUNNING CURE

i

Malware
In his computer

Malword
In his soul

Like a poisoned spear
Embedded

Malady
Malfunction

Virus

Eating its way
To the core

Working subtly
Slickly hiding

A lifetime

Now rising
From the vault

Of his netherworld

Poised to possess
Completely

ii

“I abhor you”
She said to the boy

Frustrated by him
Not meaning it – perhaps

And for all the good 

That followed

The sensitive child 

Received it
Believed in it

Absorbed it
Into his humus

Keeping it
Like a Word of God

Become flesh
In him

Disliked
Disdained
Maybe even hated

Darnel among the wheat

It is this that battles
With God for his soul

This lie

iii

I am the boy
I am the man

The boy become a man
Of many years

Another man
A stranger

A man with
Hard worked hands

Holds my face
In a public place

“You’re beautiful”
He says

Like a prophecy
From on High

This cure
This stunning cure

Word become flesh

This truth

By which all shackles
Will be gone

By which the war
Will finally be won

The harvest done

"You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord,

A royal diadem in the hand of your God

You shall no more be termed Forsaken."

(Isaiah 62)