BURNT FOR WORSHIP

-
In these days
It seems that all that had been learnt
Has been either forgotten
Or unlearned to be relearnt
But the basic things elude me
Leaving me small and bare
And my speech a ramble of thoughts.
I know not if this should be   
But trusting in my heart      
Here I am, laid down
Splattered out on the altar
That somehow, you may be pleased
As the smell of burning flesh reaches you 

 This is me                            
All of me                                    
My questions and fears                  
My entrails arranged before you     
I live to worship you.

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