A Prayer like unto Daniel’s

daniel in the lions den

O God have mercy on me; in you my soul takes refuge. In the midst of lions, surrounded by ravenous beasts, with teeth of spears, with tongues as sharp as swords I call upon your name O Lord. From the depths of the pit, hear my plea. Come near. You say, “Do not fear.” O Lord, take up my case and redeem my life. I will extol the Lord at all times. His praise be ever on my lips. But those who seek the Lord, will lack for no good thing. A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord rescues him from them all. You have rescued me from the mouth of lions, and I will declare your name to my brothers. In the congregation I will praise you. You who fear the Lord, praise him!

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“A Temple of Certitude”

A Temple of Certitude
-a requiem-

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Six years

I built upon a hill of works and a hill of parchment,
a temple of certitude.

I formed the base upon solid thought and will,
whilst humming away Truth, Truth, Truth.

I erected impregnable walls of justification,
whilst whistling away Equity, Equity, Equity.

Six years

I coated the halls with the gold of magnificence,
whilst laughing away Beauty, Beauty, Beauty.

I raised up a throne of power and authority,
whilst singing Glory, Glory, Glory.

I prostrated to whom the throne was made,
whilst chanting litanies: Forgive, Forgive, Forgive.

Six Years

I placed as my master the trustworthy slave,
whilst crying Peace, Peace, Peace.

I filled the chambers and the halls with remembrance, devotion and conviction,
whilst speaking Love, Love, Love.

I ran through the temple, my temple of certitude,
whilst shouting Forsook, Forsook, Forsook.

Six years

A spirit erupted through the temple sanctum,
It declared no, no, no.

I hid from the spirit, seeking solace from the trustworthy,
he cried woe, woe, woe.

I pleaded with the One,
he was gone, gone, gone.

Six years

I built upon a hill of works and a hill of parchment,
a temple of certitude.

I saw it crumble before my eyes, before my hands, and before my feet,
and I whispered why, why, why.

Upon two hills, as powder fine on the ground,
lay my temple of certitude,
dust, dust, dust.