Forgive me, God

Forgive me, God.

I am not a good man.

I do not love enough.

I am an empty pot

Full of my own hot pride

A cauldron where I burn

My flesh writhing conceit

A lot of bombast fire

But nothing that lingers

The shade of a shadow

And then that too is gone

God, shine your light on me

So that I disappear

A stardust in your glare

Lost in all your wonder

No longer in your book

My last true testament

Snuffed out, but forgiven

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

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