The Whipping Boy is Dead

Long live the Victor

The whipping boy is dead.

 

The whips of tongue and leather breaking spirit, breaking skin

Destructive painful even insidious

evidence lost to the blind eye.

 

Attracting a beating for crimes not his own

he is a sin eater grasping for food.

The line is breached, a serenity siege

By insults upon his soul

 

Whipping boy, Sin eater

dines on shame and pain

’til he’s full and ready for sleep.

Little did he know when he rose this day

this sleep would be for keeps

 

Rise up! Rise up!  Remove your shackles

Turn and face your aggressors!

With fire of white and all your might

Pour love to them from Thee

 

Watch as they fall, they flee, they stumble

Scattered by the winds of change

Whipping boy is dead

Giving way to the light of a new day.

 

I feel mySelf expanding into places where he hid,

Taking space and precious energy waiting to do his bit.

The cycle is now complete, any attempt to rouse him to eat

A sin not of my own making

Will Fail

All Hail

The whipping boy is dead

Long live the Victor !

The End.

to freedom from all oppression

in light and love

Astara