Prayer

 The ancient battleground needs to walk with God again. The suffering, the blood, the women. Only they hear their hearts breaking, we watch with dumb eyes on television or a device, the Afghan wolves with faces of people at the gates, the blue bruises on the eyes of the young girls. Fight them, do not yield, do not convert, an apostate and outcast, these monsters are not immortal. Breathe fire like a female dragon, the Lord shall cometh with 10,000 of His Saints to fight these ungodly demons, this Taliban that has spoken against Him and who has offended thee. 

It's funny, living with a broken heart, fractured matrix of a mind and you can't bring the dead back to life, teleport to a war-torn country, make the lame walk, cure all, walk on water, the blind and invalid, the glowing angels in every cloud, you need rest, flaming fire and vengeance on what is wrong, barely beating heart breaking badly in silence, how it only beats out of habit now, like an old drum that no one wants to hear. 

Woe to the wrongdoers. I pray for it..but it is Your will. You are the Lion of Judah, the Judge, the Overseer of Afghanistan and all the world, Your world, this big blue beautiful marble and all the shit in it. Be the dreadful judge, my heart hurts, I don't like what is happening, I feel like falling at your feet as though I am dead.