No Escape (1)
There’s no alternative
No escape;
Only through good deeds
Can one serve God.
Thus this poem mocks its creator,
Who (dismayed by human kind)
Sits all daylong
Scribbling that truth
No Escape (2)
Two days.
That’s all it took
Foe madness to return,
On finishing what I had hoped to be,
My final poem for at least
Two months.
Such is the reality
Of living in the heart
Of prophetdom;
The moment one presumes
One deserves a rest,
Debilitating, self-destructive, damnable
Depression like a desert storm
Descends upon one’s defenceless head
Michael Peach
