At the Altar

for the "Tattoo This Line" challenge

By M. A. Mehan Published about a year ago • Updated about a year ago • 1 min read

The quiet of a moment

A shaking hand raised high

The mercy of atonement

A dying, smoke-smudged sky

I stand at the altar of Judgement

WIth nothing in my hands

That’s worthy to be placed upon it

But my sandcastle, selfish, plans

Cast it all upon the altar,

Give it up to God.

It’s only causing me to falter,

I, a clawing, clutching fraud.

My earthly dreams burn in fury,

I feel it white-hot in my soul

Burn my darkness for His glory,

His love consumes me whole

Fire dances in ashes and sand

I’m freed in the quiet of the moment

At the altar of Self I stand,

And feel the mercy of atonement.

"It simply isn't an adventure worth telling if there aren't any dragons." ~ J. R. R. Tolkien

storyteller // vampire // arizona desert rat

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