Death, death, death...will be undone.

This whole life and universe were a dead body of mine,
a scab to cover all my flesh and seal my breath
to get out, to pull it off me
but I had to walk in it until it rotted off instead.

My prayers had no power, they were a gun that wouldn't fire
those weapons mighty to pull down strongholds
were not mighty in my hand
I swung them, they cut only me.
the strongholds held
and the light fell.

I entered a new and older world
full of wrinkles, and the smell of age.
Every day a weary turning and every chapter a dim-lit dream
I saw color though, false color-
every time I woke up blind.

Every time the voice of the prior world
couldn't make it - wasn't loud enough
for time makes us all deaf
and does not heal,
but cauterizes.

But there is another world
and there is a living body
and there is a real daylight, real color,
and nothing good - no one small
is devoured when they are swallowed
we will see there
that every bullet found its mark
for it will,
this corpse it will,
rot away.

And behind it?
Behind it?
Lies the Day,
lies Himself.