Praying To The Wrong Sky

I’ve known the cold.

I’ve held the faded

and the empty.

I’ve spent a lifetime

getting up off my knees,

but is it the whisper of fate?

Is this the crucible that tempered me?


Sometimes I’m thinking that I

have had my head in the clouds;

praying to the wrong sky.

Sometimes I turn my eyes inside,

never thought that I had so much to hide,

but I’m

totally without my senses.


Lost inside a great insane today,

nurturing my hostile nature,

finishing my manifesto,

praying to a good God loving,

burning like an engine running,

I think I can hear them coming;

every enemy that I’ve been breeding.



Why don’t we trade?

I’ll wear your skin

and you can see through my eyes for a day.

What do you say?

You can put on my shoes,

just don’t run away.

I’ll give you a clue

to where I’ve hidden my grave.

I’m buried alive

with all of the answers you crave.

I see that you’re thinking

that this is too good to be true;

I’m just taking my piece of you.


Don’t you see?

I’m just trying to get off my knees,

closer to me

than this disease

crushing the life from me.



Pray to God.

I’ve never found all the love that I want.


Pray to the sky.

The one on the other side.


HG -2016

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