theophanic photogene

an apostatic haze fills the air
the scent of ozone and oxymorons
bring another good friday
and the veil rips
and i am broken, you are broken,
we are all broken
all of the people
are broken
as He was broken
by selfish men

full of dents, contorted
the sickening sound of sliding tires
and crunching metal
have injured one more spirit
in this car wreck of faith

i am bruised and limping
but my astigmatic eyes find inward vision
and i see hope grin
while He hammers the dents
just a little smoother
painfully molding me
into His image
for they shall not
take His presence from me
and truth, the pariah
shall make me outcast
as He was outcast
and i shall find the true Pascha
as the censer
perfumes the air

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