Untitled

Everything’s about to change,
the realization that nothing’s the same,
and I could’nt speak my name
for the guilt
as I strode up to the church with purpose
my suit jacket flapping in the wind.
Nothing outside or within
but simple purpose,
a gift I shall give myself
because I deserve it.
Threw open the doors to the procession
the slam of the heavy door on the wall cracked the dais.
I had forgotten about yesterday, and there would be no tommorrow,
all that matters is what day today is.
And so those in the pews
recognized me,
resigned to get up and try to console me.
Church Goers are foolish,
as if God could control me now.
Some of them asked me why,
but most asked me how
to me, just idle racket,
reached into my jacket
and threw my best friend into relief,
fear conquered belief
and an unspoken command
made them all understand
as they left the pews to exit.
The pastor remained still,
I suppose he thought it part of his title,
he began to pray,
I began to shout out fallacies of the Bible.
i told him the mistakes in Genesis
I told him the truths of the book of Matthew,
I told him that God in fact did create existence,
but nowhere in the Bible does it say
that he created Time.
Shall I commit this crime?
I wondered,
if I did, where would it end?
So he pleaded with me and my best friend,
“think of Heaven above you”
I simply said, “Pastor, its hard to believe in heaven
when no one on earth loves you”
He cursed, pointed his finger,
screaming punishment upon the unholy,
my best friend spit twice,
now he was truly holy.
No one to hold me,
I moved closer to the front,
removed my glasses
as I opened up the casket,
felt tears fall from my eyes
onto a face that looked like mine.
There was no retribution for me.
There was only revenge
slowly rolling down this path
my mind filling up with the memories of things
I’ve never had.
So the tears slowly stopped flowing,
wiped my face,
my movements growing
heavy knowing
what I had planned.
And looking at your lifeless eyes
I knew you would understand,
I never was the better man,
but a simple man.
I could never do the things God can,
so it was I bowed my head and start to pray.
There was no yesterday,
there was only today,
my heart filled with sorrow
for there would be no tommorrow,
because I could no longer continue at this pace
knowing that you and I shared the same face.
And the same name.
And there was only one way to cleanse me.
I bent down and kissed your forehead
thinking I was being friendly.
And I sat there,
staring at you, praying.
Praying for forgiveness
at my disobeying
and hell was punishment enough for my actions,
For when Im there I can relax then
because at the moment,
I cannot continue an existence
of this consistence,
so with persistence
I said a Catholic Rosary over the pastor,
that despite my Mac 11
that it should be no reason that he shouldnt reach heaven.
I didnt make the excuse of not expecting
to go off like this,
my hands started to shake
at the blood draining from his asophagus,
and so I went under the pastor’s podium
promising my life
he wouldnt die alone,
My mood getting darker toned,
I thought about his kids and his wife,
I vomited.
After which I found the blood of Christ,
took two drafts and spilled the bottle in the casket
and then the preacher,
left with a liter,
I began to walk around the church splashing wine.
Given false courage by the alcohol,
my body no longer shaken because it’s damned,
I wonder if the lamb
would feel my pain.
After I erased my name
from me
and from this world forever,
threw my best friend on the floor,
ready to meet the end of ends,
spat at the evil thing
that we were no longer friends.
Took out a cigarette and a lighter,
sat in a pew,
the nicotine
soothing my endless dream
that had somehow twisted into a nightmare,
and I asked myself if I dared.
Was I afraid?
I dared,
No fear for I would pay the fine,
and as the lit match quietly hit the wine,
flames started to crawl around the procession.
As I smoked,
done asking silly questions,
I picked up a bible,
oh the crime of being suicidal
I thought,
opened the book to Psalms,
before my eyes it turned to ashes in my palms,
There was only today,
and from memory I began to say,
“Yea,
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil”
Fire has no equal,
and so it took me and the rest of the church,
and even though it hurts,
my heart and soul were free of hatred,
now full of sorrow at this place desecrated,
and as everything around me disentigrated,
I felt elated
because my thirst for vengeance
was sated.

Untitled

Shaquille Stewart

Montgomery Village, United States

Artist's Description

I dont know how to describe it, so i wont.

Artwork Comments

  • Jet ...
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