Murder In The Cathedral – Two-Word Tale #14

‘The Cathedral’ (detail): WHB – Pen & Wash

Murder In The Cathedral

Agog
With awe
And gripped
With fright
How can
I last
For one
More night

My awe
My fear
Hold me
In thrall
A lasting
Longing
Curtain call

I sleep
I dream
I know
My place
‘Tis full
Of pain
With-out
God’s grace

For all
My sins
I can’t
A-tone
I’m lost
I’m gone
I am
Mere bone

Des-pair
And dread
Are my
Mill-stone
Worn as
Penance
On my
Head-stone

——–

To you
Who now
Will hear
My story
I pray
You will
My fate
Be-moan 

——–

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History generally lays the blame for the murder of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, on his former close friend, King Henry II, who, in 1174, did penance at Becket’s tomb in Canterbury Cathedral. 

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The Borderlands of POETRY – 5

PART THE FIFTH

 

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Poetry As Religion

 

Poetry has become my religion
My faith lies in belief
Belief that my words convey my feelings
Express my thoughts
In a way that my actions are unable to do
And while I write
While I construct my idolatrous icons
I am worshipping at the altar of my muse
And offering penance for my frailties.