BAPTIZED

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Baptized
Day CXCII
Day CXCIII of CCCLXVI


I was once a saint with words
Fighting the good cause
With my ink 
Placing demons of words in everlasting curse
I was once an apostle
Preaching the gospel of poetry
I feed on metaphor
For the jungle of assonance got the best of me

But overtime
I started personal fornication
Leaving personification to be killed beautifully
By those who made oxymoron a moron
I neglected syndoche
Barring it to be sync as a cache in my world of art
Making euphony a felony to me
How ironic?
For without hyperbole
I could call myself the best
For with alliteration
I win war warmly with words willingly as a warrior of words

But, suddenly
I was out of the box
The box of art
And I was lost in blank darkness

Now, sitting to reminiscence
On my success and failure
I realized, I need to be reborn
To be baptized once again
Not by blood or water
Neither by a ghost or genies
Not by demons but a spirit so holy
I went back to my source

My source
Still there so beautiful
And pure like crystal
I took of the fluid of art
With the bowl of words
And with a spirit of repentance
I washed the figure of my inner self
And behold 
I was refreshed
Like a new born
I was clean, so fresh
I became neat
Like a new white silk

The lost me
Was found
The dead me
Has risen
The sinner in me
Has been baptized

®Sam Petros
©2020
#Poetry_366


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