Sickness

The Sickness' full of painful stings,
Beloved thrashes at my words
Broken crumpled flightless wings
Hobbling dying frightened birds
Be we.

Long ago, love and life did crest
Now flesh and soul cannot feel
Now in demon darkness, pressed
Courage, joy, have lost their steel
Bedeviled.

Beyond salvation, beyond the cup
Of pardon, redemption, and renewal
Alone and dying, I wait to sup
In the hell of my own construal
Be me.
___

From a couple of years ago.