How vaguely we eschew complicity with You, 

it's always run-arounds, excuses 

and words we bind to nooses 

just to sullenly let swing 

the best of arbitrary things, 

like, do we care about the poor? 

Oh yes, but we support the king. 



And we're starving for the slaughter. 

A man gives up his daughter 

and the walls that keep us safe aren't saving anyone. 

Didn't You say 

to risk everything? 



And we're left dieting for more 

and then we're burning on the tor 

that flanks an emperor's affair. 

We've hardly sacrificed before 

so in manic heavenward stare 

let the confession from our lungs 

that as our bodies torch the air 

to the fanfare and the drums, 

amid drunken wild acclaim, 

we have the urge to scream Your name. 

and without hesitance or shame 

affirm our place among the burning. 

And our bodies break, confirming 

our inability to remain 

without an object for our yearning. 



Our inability, our inability. 



"Oh God, accept our spirits 

into Your holy presence"