Evangelion

By Anson Clark

I was waiting here to miss you.

The tattered Bible you gave me – 

St. John, among others, staring back at me –

Stopped me from leaping into

The dark. Prevented me from

Dissolving into the nihilism of

Nothing. I so wanted to meet you

Again, to thank you, my angel of fate.

But fate is a tricky beast, and instead

Of me, you leapt into the dark; you

Dissolved into the nihilism of nothing.

But your life could never be nothing,

Even if you were momentarily unaware

Of this, for you gave me something,

This charred, cigarette-stained Bible, 

And more. If only the something you gave 

Me was recognised by you as something 

That gave you meaning

Just before those final dark moments, so

You could have stepped back from the

Clanging edge. Death’s scythe fell

As summer stammered its baking hell,

The flamingos, flaming red, thrust their

Sweating heads into the cooling watery

Foam, to escape it all; as the jetsam rose,

Bobbing to the surface of the heart, an attempt

Of purification, of catharsis. You achieved

This for me, but not for yourself.

And so I stand here in the frosted chill,

Gnawed Bible in my hand, bookmark

Stained half way through the Psalms,

And I wait for you, always in pure hope.

Waiting here to miss you.


Anson Clark lives in the United Kingdom and is currently an online student at the Saint Irenaeus House of Orthodox Studies.

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