To Stone I Turn
If not a slave of this world, I am a slave of God
Wearied in chains, my soul oppressed
I walk with leaden feet
To a feat I trod
My solace warms, in a soul dressed
by the virgin's blood and
Magdalene's tears.
With their succor
I quench my fears
Its love impressed,
My soul never leers
Still the chains don't chain my will,
a will sick with desire.
Outwitting my simple soul
My will tempts the mire
To swamp not just the earth,
but slime God's soul as well
So in misery my soul can dwell
And in hell burn in fire.
Mystified in God's quay….
In my plumbeous chains, saturnine my soul turns
Wearied by the trod.
Treading lead, the color gray
Like an angel I fly away.
Where souls land and
pray to God
Hoping their soul never burns
To stone, my soul turns
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Added by Poetry Lover
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