Leave me not, lest I fade.
I, drawn of dust in blood-fed chest;
tree without rings
tongue without taste
a shame without feeling ashamed.
Take your scars, clear my scabs
I can not stand
will not stand
have no legs to stand
and when I attempt at running I collapse.
Collapse upon me, cross the space
I, returner of when I hate;
twig apart from tree
fire apart from flame
impregnable are the mysteries that
leave me not, lest I fade.
Psalm 119:4-5, Isaiah 6:9-12, John 15
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