frozen in the silence

In the cold of desolation
lost, apart from God
in the maelstrom of his anguish
unable to be restored

He spit out the curse
frozen in the silence,
his words themselves a presence
as real as flesh and blood

In the darkness, his despair
his spiral of endless pain
shouting epithets at God
cursing his holy name


====
Edited November 15, 2012
“his words themselves a presence”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/his-words-themselves-presence.html
Edited November 15, 2012
“frozen in the silence”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/frozen-in-silence.html
Edited November 15, 2012
“as real as flesh and blood”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/as-real-as-flesh-and-blood.html
Edited November 15, 2012
“His pain real”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/his-pain-real.html
Edited November 15, 2012
“He spit out the curse”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/he-spit-out-curse.html
Edited November 15, 2012
“He spat out the words – v2”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/he-spat-out-words-v2.html
November 14, 2012
“He spat out the words”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/he-spat-out-words.html
page 80-81, Chapter 5,
“Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner”
The Shack, by William P. Young
http://www.theshackbook.com/


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,890+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.