The Accuser of the Brethren

** In response to Aaron Porter's sermon I listened to this morning


The Accuser of the Brethren,
-- the liar with the lair
in the deep of my soul --
sucks arid the marrow of freedom
out of bones bought with
the Blood.

Thieving and resurrecting
my throbbing insecurities,
he subtly pulses them into reason.

The heavy battle within
slowly tumbles
and roars.

The clashing swells
and surrounds me
too fast, too thick
until I cannot see,
ache to feel,
will not hear
Him,

Because the Accuser has coated each strike
with the dripping contempt
of what my flesh knows I deserve
and so I believe
and so I am deceived
into the darkness
-- the eternal shadow that only grows
and never fades.

Unaware
I have stopped breathing,
my body cedes
to the unconscious assails
of nightmares and reality
that lock hands and
compose commands
I crumble to,
because my brittle frame
of mind has been depleted
of the Creator’s nutrients.

And so I have become
soul thirsty
in a dry desert of my own
deceptions.