By David De Jong
My page is dark with soiled ink.
My Self Inflicted Nemesis
Spills from the margins,
Bleeding to the pages beneath.
Each fiber stained in darkness
Worthy of naught but flaming fire.
Yet I am free from its flailing curse
Washed clean as fresh from my Maker
Without the stench or stain. All slain
By the pure everlasting blood
Found only in the One True God.