My Father, Chaos, hear my plea, extremes,
Once comforting, are killing me. My mind,
My emotions, my very being, seem
Too high a fee for my bleeds. Father? Bind

My hands and take from me, sins of pasts
Which I can’t even see, don’t turn your face
From my plagiarized ways, I want to last
For eternity… Forgive human race

Its awkward tomb, its in-turned sight and conned
Platitudes. Give us a sign of heaven
On earth, I can’t see the forest beyond
The wood – I wish I understood… The When

Of Now unpatterns me with no embrace,
Deliver my soul into perfect grace.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 10/1/05