Fallen, Fallen, Fallen

I recall being born into this world
with the umbilical cord of sin
wrapped around
choking and gagging I came
I straddled along, broke a tooth
trying to walk straight

the flaw of my smile
walked more crooked miles
stole comic books and bazooka gum
rushed away again
followed the fallen hordes of Ozzy Osbourne
and Alice Cooper

became the lost sheep
wandered so far from home
identified with the mutilation
of Sid Vicious
the scandal of his life
played games with no rules
and with rougher souls that
scarred

I was a punk,
with a twisted soul
that housed the conscience
of a zombie
glitter, carousing
boozing
myself into unconsciousness
and oblivion
if I remembered
or had strength in my hands
to scrub the streaks of blood
from an idol worshipping face
all night in the streets
and the mascara
from imitating
the New York Dolls
the appearace underneath
a pristine choir boy
sadly soap and water
couldn’t scrub the filth from
the secret places where
the Divine dwells
there were tattoos burned onto
my smooth slender arms
I scoffed
snorted white powder
hated God for not being there

the years forced me forward
dragging me along with it
broke my nose a few times
lost the place I laid my head
slept under trees in parks
would hear the whispers,
“Fallen, Fallen, Fallen!”
in the songs of the birds
in the screams of the wind
heard voices in the deep places
my heart was peeled
like an onion
I couldn’t imagine
feeling any more
desperate or lonely
I was ostracized
cast out as a leper
as the offscouring
of a society
I let discard me

in the city
abject wanderers rushing about
on corners begging for other
men’s change,
many looked past me
others threw their change
at me
I lunged at the coins
on the ground

it was a blessing
sleeping in a shelter
and being fed anything
the smorgasbord I would
make of old food inside trash bins
was kingly

One glorious evening
rummaging through
the usual rubbish
I found the head of a fish
wrapped in old newspapers
there must have been a stinch
my senses could no longer inhale
along with a crumpled old tract
my pride had read them before
had viciously ripped
the words,
" For God So Loved the World that He Gave His Only Begotten Son that Whoever Believes In Him Should not Perish But Have Everlasting Life." (John 3:16)

my heart cracked
open and the wails and
sobs that poured out
my tears began cleansing
me,
washing old hurts
the sky began pouring
more healing
washing the soils
and the streaks
I hadn’t taken a bath
in weeks and weeks

the pleading within me
became a crescendo
of screams begging God
to let me tie up all the loose ends
all the days that had chewed me up
and spit at me

There was a gentle spirit
in the hail of rain
The Beautiful Soul lifted
me up, when no one would
touch me
there is Great Beauty and Strength
and Excellence of Moral Character and
Awe and Wonderful Perfection
in a Soul that would touch corruption

I didn’t want to lift my head
it was so heavy from shame
that He considered me at all
Jesus made me sacred on the inside

the trees and the rocks and the chirping
grasshoppers, cried out,
“Fallen, Fallen, Fallen, no more.”

daveycopyrighted.

Fallen, Fallen, Fallen

davey davies

Joined August 2010

  • Artist
    Notes
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Artist's Description

Jesus saved this corrupt sinner. I had to tell it from the rooftops.

Artwork Comments

  • bluecrystal93
  • davey davies
  • Matty B. Duran
  • davey davies
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