Humility

 This is a poem of hope. I wrote it one night as I sat before a nativity scene and was struck by my insane amount of pride. I begged to be simple, I begged to have my pride ripped apart so I could be free. And this is what I wrote:

Castle of straw so proudly built,

Work of rotting hand.

Fort of mortals, sheath of bones,

Built upon the sand.

Bar by bar, each hopefully snatched,

Blindly seen as gold,

Now revealed as cruelest steel

By choice was each one mold.

Numb I sit in self-made cage

Lost in easy pain.

Still I write my hope and life,

Blood scrawled across the page:

Rip me to shreds, I beg, I plead

Scourge this frozen corpse

Tear my heart and make me bleed

Shake me by Your force.

Make me small, a sliver of me

So I may freely slip

‘Twixt these bars that cage me here

Into Your loving grip.