The Civil War

I am torn in two
But I will conquer myself.
I will dig up the pride.
I will take scissors
And cut out the beggar.
I will take a crowbar
And pry out the broken
Pieces of God in me.
Just like a jigsaw puzzle,
I will put Him together again
With the patience of a chess player.

How many pieces?

It feels like thousands,
God dressed up like a whore
In a slime of green algae.
God dressed up like an old man
Staggering out of His shoes.
God dressed up like a child,
All naked,
Even without skin,
Soft as an avocado when you peel it.
And others, others, others.

But I will conquer them all
And build a whole nation of God
In me – but united,
Build a new soul,
Dress it with skin
And then put on my shirt
And sing an anthem,
A song of myself.

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The Civil War