Not Your Disciple

A vacuum grabs
me as I am pulled,
into your vicinity,
I see I am fooled.

I thought escape I
a piece of a peace
I had just found I
a mania a release.

Effervescent blood
under my skin rose
as in your arms I a
fool felt your hold.

As if some Christ I
called you a home;
your gospel of love
was for you alone.

I hear your words
call for some time
to entice me so to
make you divine.

My wants they fall
to the ground give
I you a red carpet
upon for you to live.

Worship I will not
but my own path.
I no disciple shall
I suffer your wrath.

©jwinchester