the Law weighsheavy-

---

the Law weighsheavy-

tied to an anvil,hammering the ocean bed like a gavel.

though honey is glossed onto my lips as I fed on each phrase.

as these words read:beautiful and dread,

trending neck deep,it twists myside bitterly

I planned a lifeliving to “self-righteous” Myself from these standards.

to find,wasted beneath a grave of lies.

pure is the Word;as I place my left,gently on His face.

But right is never raised,for the Truth is doubt in sight.

The sounds of major and minor fight within me

—to rule the home of my heart.

He then takes the heavy book,

from the hands that cried for a sliver of hope.

these demands satisfied, with a weakwhisper of request.

white and black reverse;justice consume the Host

behold the brilliant light! in which i’ve held in the dark.