Lord, leave your ark to burn.

I’ll distinguish your existence among      
various violent musical notes,      
dusted over with skeletal coats of ashes.    
Cracks blueprint these beating walls      
for future renovations;    
angels mournfully slump on my shoulder,    
serenading death with crooked smiles.    
     
Lord, let me in.      
The matches have scalded your spirit.    
Stop weeping; leave your ark to burn.    
You can never tend it back to revitalization,    
no matter how many compressions.    
(Save me instead, save me)    
Betrayal comes in the form      
of a flawless silence.    
     
Discerning my Christian name far away      
in brilliant starlit letters;      
I absentmindedly scan my      
fingerprint to verify identity.    
The hollow search returned empty,    
while my name faded into the thick black.    
Somewhere above crystal clouds      
I hear an echoing laugh    
setting my spirit alight.