I am framed through the hagioscope,
but this is not your prison.
They walled you in with freedom,
and you sang your own death,
and spread pity on all the words that followed.
They all want saving but they’re not yours to save.
One foot embedded in ancient stone,
the other pointed as you rise.
finger seeking the benevolent
but He is not there.
They come for saving but don’t need it.
Answers are easy, prayers simple.
Your cellmate is the best response,
the cover for everyone’s eternal exit.
In the dark, you caress it like a lover,
and beat it until your fists bleed.
They all need saving but they won’t be saved.
Teeth fall from your mouth,
your hair lies in tendrils each morning.
They’ve burnt you, dragged you,
bombed you to bits.
You tell me, save yourself,
and turn from the opening
to sit with your gracious friend,
You can’t be saved.
And thank God for that.
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