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+Steven Curtis Lance

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by +Steven Curtis Lance

Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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"I come to collect a debt of respect"


As I once scrubbed the blood from this floor
Here where my broken mother once fell
Now I scrub it from the walls and door
Of our holy home bled red by hell

This is not blood from a Parkinson's fall
But the poisoned blood of denizens all
Of darkness who should never have been here
Bringing stains of nethermost nightmares near

Some sadomasochistic fantasy
Played out here which cannot make sense to me
Because I never fell that far not yet
A bitter lesson I will not forget

Brokenhearted I scrub this room to let
Another crazy couple come destroy
The only safe place I knew as a boy
Now soiled with the blood of a guilty curse

Just when I thought things could never get worse

The broken window is repaired now
I did my best to fix the broken door
The new window shade is on its way
But this is enough there will be no more

I am thinking of selling today

But then all I could do is pay my debts
And live and die a stranger with regrets
That I was the one to let it all go
Driven from home by the scum of the earth

My mother is free while I trapped here below
Am left now to wonder what life is worth
When worse than I could imagine has come true
I will not forget what they did to you

Home of my heart and my mother's memory
Those who defiled you will not rest easily
They will taste the sharp bitterness of regret
As surely as I remember my mother

So turn around scum see it is none other
Than me representing the family

I come to collect a debt of respect

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMVII

Sea Stones
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Reviewed by Chrissy McVay 3/18/2007
Very sad. Opening your home to strangers is difficult as it is...

Reviewed by Lew Duffey 3/13/2007
Very interesting write, Steve.
God Bless,

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