HORROR Poem: Cornered by God, by Ashwa Naz

Another good man cries tears,
Over the crimes he’s committed.
His wife’s shoulders are wet,
And her hands are tired from holding his head.

And they’re both thinkin’
Is this what you call living?

They’ve abandoned the spring,
From blood they will rise,
A new beginning.
They chant, we chant.

We chant, you chant!

Take skin off my flesh,
Flesh off my bones,
Every inch I digress,
Soul and all I’m yours to own.

What a calling!

Take skin off my flesh,
Flesh off my bones,
Every inch I digress,
Soul and all I’m yours to own.

You have called him!

My sweet child on earth,
I feel your heart,
The aching, the quickening
Near stopping.
Crimes cannot be defined,
Is it sinning or surviving?
Either, or.

Oh baby I don’t mind!
As your soul is mine for the taking.