My God, like an ox
Ploughing among your stones
I was strong. On your yoke of thunder
I was silent.
My silence was a curse.
I am weary. You take
The royal cloak form my shoulders
And hide the purple of your slain army
In your mounds’ innocence.
My God, all-highest mighty,
Smiting my spirit like a storm on the field.
Your harvest lies before you. Amen.
-Saul’s last prayer (Piaggis)
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