B.C. Askins

The Man With the Golden Gun

My Psalm

I am covered in blood.
It is mine
And my neighbors’
And my enemies’.
I have been so near to death
That I can’t relate to the living.
I have held so many hands
Until they could hold mine no longer.
I have walked to the veil of death
So many times
Where so many faces dissolve
Into just so many memories.
I have carried so many
To the grave.
Who will hold my hand?
Who will walk with me?
Who will carry me?
I endure,
But I am not strong.
I’ve simply never known anything else.
If I could quit
If I knew how to die
I would have long ago.
But I can’t.
So I walk alone
Covered in blood
And even my shadow would leave me
If it could.
And I can’t go on.
Who will carry me?
Who will walk with me?
Who will hold my hand?
The hands of the Lord have scars on them.
If they did not
Then I could not
Believe in him.
But because his body is covered in scars
I can believe in nothing else.
It is difficult to believe that God created a world
Where so many suffer so much.
But it is unbelievable that He created a world
Where no one suffers more than He suffers.
And I believe the unbelievable.
So I am covered in His blood
And I no longer walk alone.
For greater love has no one than this
That one lays down his life for his friends.
I am the friend of God.
And He will carry me.
He will walk with me.
He will hold my hand.
Until death is put to death
And life is brought to life


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