i prayed once "lord take this from me, i desire it not."
but the prayer returned void.
for i am a dog chasing cars.
everytime i see one, i run a little faster, but what to do with them once i reach them?
this empty goal will never have a destination.
i stare at the dried creek bed wondering if it will flow again. it feels as if it's been years. i don't move, but instead sit still with my feet in the dried dirt. my thoughts eagerly contemplate if the high rocks will pour in the next hour and wet this parched land. all i want is to clean my feet. i know this, that it will not rain, but on i wait. such an emptiness this is.
i looked and thought, "look, the skies turned gray!" but drips dropped not.
and so my eyes continue to be the source of wetness, for no other fount flows.
as i stare at them and weep, my feet appear a little more dirty than before.
oh lord, free my hands to put down the sword and shield. i wish not to fight nor defend. why have you placed these weapons in my hands, when they are too heavy to bear. father i wish for peace. no more fame lord, take it from me. just burn the earth already, for we are wicked. we can't escape our wickedness for even one second. lord it's too hard. just burn the earth already, and me with it. burn my flesh, for i desire only my spirit.
this dog who desires all the scraps off our table and all the food in his bowl grows fatter. he is never satisfied and never leaves his bowl. so on we fill it, but it is useless. he still grows more concerned about his food than the day before today.
lord, you have heard me say take this from me, yet you take not.
you take not.
God, kill me. for i am a fattened dog. no matter how my bowl gets filled, i only want more and nothing else. do not touch me when i am near my bowl. for i only growl now, but someday i swear i will bite.
"suppression" by Morgan J. Smith
Self-Portrait
