Saturday, September 20, 2025

In Love & War: Upon Attack

 




An animated frame, 

  Clumsily sheered in velvet



  I walk like a zombie,

A Player at the disposal of control


  Arms reaching up...

Grabbing this from the cupboard, 

  Eyes gazing off, 

Soul Frozen, Dull, and Trapped. 


 Searching the interior 

Beyond repetitive motions 

  

   For the answers 

To the questions formed in me- 

    Little Hollow Shell. 


  An answer comes 

From nowhere...


  Saying, 


"Pray for Him". 


Another.... "Waste no time in rebuking mockers"....


  And another...


"Find strength in my words (the Bible)".



     I love words but do not like to read...


Yet still...


  It beckons me. 


"This is a Spiritual Attack".... God now speaks. 


   "Do not let it win, it's aim." 


As if it's landing, is up to me. 



  Paralyzed. 

Stewing in some Cosmic Gumbo. Just ruminating there. Soaking it all in. 

  Everything brewing in my pot. 


Apathy. Disconcern. 


  Perhaps a defense mechanism? 


Perhaps the gestation of my star frames 

  Ever in motion. 



  Body broken. Heart Sore. 

Tender from the beaten battle, 

  Still raging outside 

      My Door. 



My Holiness draped 

  In Black Mass 


  Mourning everything he frenzies up 

Against me.  


  A man who will not leave her alone. 

He has not kicked her enough. He has to have a place to throttle his pain. 



Now...


  Wanting to be loved 

But being judged for my history. 


  Asked to open up, 

Only to be revoked of-


  Triggers and shutdowns. 


and for me, more letdowns. 


  No concern. For what? 



But God tells me to get up. 


Yet I am just now...


  An animated frame. 


My shell is cracked. 

  My vessel bled of its force. 


Trying to muster up 

  any stamina. Something. 


Just enough. To feed her. 

  To watch myself die. 


  Just enough to get her up, 

Just enough to still have a few tears left to cry. 


Just enough to watch 

   The defeat. 

The Surrender. 


The Captivity. 


Enslavement. 



  Demons ever upon her;

       Yours. 



What man could love her, 

   As you love me, Holy Father? 


What man could have eyes to see, this?! 



  Or have you left me alone in this? 

To bear unbearable things? 



Are you, toying with me? 



  In love again? For with what now blinded eyes, 

Do I have left to see? 


  "Your discernment is not through the eyes" 

       God says. 


As I question the set-up. 



  Why shouldn't I? 

How couldn't I? 


  Why would I 

Keep attempting to be loved? 


  What?! 

Is the point?! 



   "You have to fend off the spiritual attack

          That's the point. 

You need to grow your wings. 

You need to find your practice. 


  That is why, my child"


    And I scoff! 

 I do! But I know 

    It's true. 


  I scoff, because 

I am up against the impossible here- 


  Alchemizing myself in this. 


But he reminds me of Daniel's Den. 


  and I rage! 


  You are asking too much of me!! 


But no more answers came. 



  Hollow frame...


Needing Life again. 

  Fighting for it. 


Tooth and nail. 


    Maybe it's not much today...

The Zombie left for replacement of soul...


  But at least I try not to sit there too long. 


Just enough to feel it all. 


  And then....



     



GET UP. 









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