a failed fast no less

a secret pastime ravished

by hunger’s greedy night

‍

aching shoulders tell the story

of a day malspent

a discipline deserted

a commitment compromised

‍

i want to inhabit my form

fully, yet failure’s talons

claw their clammy crossing through

self’s fragile beauty, for a moment

gnarled and scarred

‍

just a day’s fast

was hoped for, a day

well spent on glory’s glory

yet it was not to be, this day
‍

thank God for the morrow’s morn

when failed fasts

sin’s snakeskin shed will be

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