Monday, March 28, 2011

I'd Rather the Fire

This poem is a companion piece to the one I just wrote on being like Samson and avoiding Delilah.  The title for this poem came to me while I was at the Sigma Tau Delta convention and I penned it out last night.

"I'd Rather the Fire"

"For the lips of a strange woman drop as an honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil: But her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword." -- Proverbs 5:3-4.

Her pupil calls to me,
Her iris shoots through me,
Her smile lights the candle
My soul cannot handle;
But she wants the flesh,
Which gives way to death:

            I'd rather the fire.

Her hand, it doth beckon
As my soul doth reckon
The pleasures of sin
That would lead to my end;
But all of her charms
Set off my alarms:
            I'd rather the fire.

With her touch, she claims
She'll extinguish the flames
That burn in my body;
But her touch will hardly
Give enduring satisfaction,
And I'll need another transaction:
            I'd rather the fire.

Her voice I hear call,
"Come, give me your all;"
But my all is owed
To Him who saved my soul;
His Blood can sever
Her pull on me forever:
            I'd rather the fire.

I turn to be gone,
I must now move on;
Though my flesh burns me,
As His Spirit turns me,
I've scorned her advances
And found the right answer:
            I'd rather the fire.

My forehead, like flint,
Stares forward, intent;
Mine eyes, set like steel,
Show not what I feel
As I exit this station
Where I met temptation:
            I'd rather the fire.

Delilah has no place,
In Ekklesia's race;
The fire burns off
Everything that's dross;
Wi' th' Fourth Man I'll go
Not even smelling of smoke:
            Though she begs, I'm called higher,
            To come out of the fire.

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