This is a reworking of an old poem of mine that I wrote to describe my struggles with pride and forgiving myself of being a fool.

Forgive the Furious Fool

A broken head and a bent heart,

Swell in the swagger of preposterous preening,

While words thunder beautiful boasts,

In the grim occupancy of a strict frailty,

To heave the body sick...

Hubris holds the hell of truest torture,

To hail the hatred of stupidest self,

Until rage rails immense and voiceless,

And the obscenity of pride poses perfect,

In the riches of ruthlessness...

Though I am held in the hell of nothing,

But a cracked whisper of truth,

The perfect tune and time of Grace,

Is like a grand old wordless rhyme,

In the immense intensity of an oppressive love...

Shuddered in the forces of the firmament,

Humility was lost in the thistle and weeds,

But mercy swarms like bees and honey,

To fray away hate and grasp the whole:

Forgive the furious fool.

©2013 Alison Zacharias