What happens when you have nothing left?
to give, to receive, to live, to be
When the shell of a man becomes so empty
and not consumed by such precious fire
that would shine through transformation
What is left when you’re a listing vessel?
drowning, scowling, screaming
When the holes punched start taking on water
and the heaviness breaks down enfeebled will
that would sink below tumultuous waves
There is an aching here, a remnant
Likened to the husk offered to the winds
after the meat of the wheat were taken and used
There is a breaking here, a resentment
From a heart full of giving until gone now
nothing left save the one feeling abused
Words become shadows of notions
going through embittered motions
A giving soul, wrapped within joy is smothered
when one gives beyond their tipping point
waking up calloused leaves others suffered
without given peace or extended merciful grace
What happens when you cannot give,
cannot receive, cannot live, cannot be?
Unable to be of use, in a place of unserving
Created for gracious purposes left unfilled
one’s purpose carved out, cleared out, unfulfilling
Winnowed and cast away, bruised and pitied
Poured out like a jar, unreservedly emptied
Discarded and useless, like wasted efforts
Love granted for healing but unreceived

 

 

8:42 am
15 February 2012

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