Rapture

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RAPTURE, RAPTURE, and I knew that the messiah was coming. I looked into myself and saw a chimney full of soot. My broom to find I could not, and I knew my testimony had long been prepared, and life had kept scores of my deed and my circumstance. I heard the trumpet sound, and I saw the saints walk ahead. I could not follow them, for my clothes were red and dripping, and while they smelled of sweet incense, I reeked of poison. My sins trailed me like an unwanted shadow, and my hands refused to hide my face. I ran into a house to seek respite, and there I saw a fan that had long stopped moving, and windows caked with dust. It reminded me of a place I had long abandoned, of circumstance I had long taught myself to forget. Looking back into my house, I could see the walls written in blood, scrapped by fingers, of the torture I wrought. The floor was dotted with shattered mirrors and broken dreams, a testimony of how I lived, a precursor to how I’ll die.
Rapture, rapture, have mercy on my soul, for I have sinned and still to continue will in hope that grace shall abound. I have long traded the truth for falsehood, sowed seeds of despondency and deprived many of their chance, but do not deprive me, in these moments of the last. My heart is laden as night comes in, for I know that the cloud of darkness is not in the sky but inside my heart. I shall take my chance today. Which side will the scale tip? How much is my weight in gold? How heavy am I in silver? Looking into the murky waters outside, I see a beast staring back, eyes red and ready to maul. There is not much hope for a man like me, but that of meeting the gallows. Allow me, I beseech you, to get what I want. Allow me to get what I need, but please, do not allow me to get what I deserve.

J.P Simiyu©


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