What are these hands
but idle toys,
with mastery of my universe
forfeit to divine creation,
and free will
subject to the purpose
of exaltation and worship,
salvation and damnation,
my person
captured in a purgatory of the living.
a physical limbo
a social war
waged against a realm of possibilities,
what ifs
and maybes,
maybe not’s
and if so’s,
punished by belief
and fervent opinion,
ropes of intolerance
and whips denying
the evils of uncertainty,
brutal tongue lashings,
cursing a soul seemingly
tainted,
a war against
the fear of inevitability,
the uncertainty of hopes
driven into minds and hearts
as divine gifts
empty promises
filled with meaning
by devotion,
empowered by imagination,
the void of
crucial humanly aspects,
But No,
I am wrong,
a corruption to young minds,
forsaking grace and eternal life,
an enemy of faith,
damned by conviction,
prisoner of proposed fate.
So what are these hands
if not but idle toys?
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