“scales for eyes” by Pierce Benefield

Your rage has made the land that dare not be treaded on a river of waterlogged American dreams.
‘Look at how strong we were,’ we cried, ‘we won’t be moved from this rock.’
In your frightening satire, you tore us from our foundation to show where our hopes were rooted all along.
We believed in your blessings, but not in you.
And when we stubbornly believed it to all be coincidence, you breathed your mighty violence at the belt we believed to be hold us together;
The belt we believed would save us.
You declare in the anger of your eye we were no belt, no sanctuary of the few and faithful, but rather the proud and judgmental.
We were no true reflection of you, just a damning multitude of Pharisaic hearts that yearned to hide our own wicked sins long enough to fool you.
But you can be mocked no longer.
Let your tears flood our cities.
Let your breath strip us of our foundations.
Rid us of our false security so we might finally beg for you.
For we say we are rich, we have prospered, and need nothing,
But we are in fact wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.
We are the whore,
The Israel that treats your grace, your blessings, and you yourself as a prostitute.
We use you when it’s convenient and throw you away when we feel satisfied.
All while we pledge our nation is under your guidance.
Let us be destroyed,
be it the fire of Hell from the depths of the core, the wrath of your tears or the fury in your eye that hails from your oceans.
We deserve everything but your mercy,
Because while your rage ruined the rest of this world
we sat quiet.
While your people were martyred
in the jungles and underground,
we continued to rebel.
While your words were twisted
and your face removed,
we held the knife to your throat and slit it in the name of progression,
in the name of freedom.
‘God is dead!’ we praised.
And how we wished we were right.
Crush our highest idols with your hands.
Demolish our beloved possessions with your teeth.
Castrate us, that we may be deprived of our unholiness.
Sever us from the delusion we call reality,
Erase us entirely,
Because simply
We hate you.
And maybe in the time of our demise,
In the last few seconds before our eradication,
When we see your unhindered abhorrence,
Maybe then we will be enticed to call on you
For mercy
For grace
For repentance…
But now? By no means.
“I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire,
so that you may be rich
And white garments
So that you may clothe yourself
And the shame of your nakedness may not be seen,
And salve to anoint your eyes,
So that you may see.”
O God,
Let us see.


~ Pierce Benefield

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