CONFESSIONAL
Rain falls, as Michael walks the streets
Of silent city, tall and fair.
A ghost of youth with moonlit eyes
Cadaver flesh and cobweb hair.
The living death; in preacher's garb
Blood rots to poison in his veins
The martyrs have forsaken him.
Pale Christ suffered not for his pains.
A child of faith and tainted sex
He once was daddy's little boy.
Now. He gives all for heroin.
Compliant, A street corner toy.
Ecstatic scars on bended back
Pay testement to daddy's fun
Shame silent, cried out in the dark
Door locked. He was the chosen one.
And Jesus took his name in vain
As God betrayed him, turned away
Sweet Michael choked on bloody dawn
Fell to piss-wet knees to pray
Forgiveness. Pure as children's tears
Soiled as soft mouth and giving cheeks
Eluded him. Eludes him still.
He's come to hide, amongst the freaks.
Nineteen. The saint of the main drag
Halo of fly-blown neon light
Michael forces lips apart.
Smiles for the damned, like every night.
And as dark love approaches him
Face twisted in devouring grin
He whispers words from childhood lost;
'Forgive me, father. I have sinned.'
copyright: angel, august 1997