You deserve
Your name.
I have been hanging from
A tree in your garden since
2002.
When will you let the corpse fall
Free to the ground?

I come to your house like
Mary to the Inn
Like a sick man to hospital
Like a beggar to the electric gates of
A rich man

You show me the door to
The road
The snake
It is seven miles long
And at its end
A labrynth of
Thorns and mirrors

I am imprisoned under 
Your house
Like St. John

I walk with my reflection
Underneath pools of water
Ashamed to see
My face disfigured 
By your insults

O hatred, vengence!
Love shall be the last to die
In me.

I know you mean well even though you
Say the most terrible things
And project
A false daemon
Above your head.

I hope
There is a heaven;
The end of the play
Where the actors
Remove their masks
The end of suffering
The start
Of a new day