Ἡ εἰς ᾍδου κάθοδος τοῦ Χριστοῦ ~ Thursday, November 20, 2025
Yes, positively certain it was him
Ἡ εἰς ᾍδου κάθοδος τοῦ Χριστοῦ
The Descent of Christ into Hades
Yes, allegedly, it was all my fault
every day, I look back and shake my head
still, it does no good to ponder my luck
pepper, over my shoulder, I throw salt
only wishful thinking, as if things change
still, I am here for a reason, my bed
in an instant, I make, clean sheets, no muck
tintinnabulation, bells, my alarm
in an instant, I wake, to rearrange
visions of past events, mistakes I made
empty the candy bowl, fill it again
let go and start over, to make the grade
yesterday, things happened, walked in the rain
created the universe with no harm
employed as a design model, who knows
really, maybe this was the point, to write
tackle the problems of the world in verse
a florist watches as her orchid grows
insanity repeats, makes a difference
nonsense, nothing happens without a fight
inside my brain, I wait for the black hearse
to imagine why I am here, not there
why you and why not me instead, nonsense
accountability without pity
suffering until death takes me away
harrowing of hell, Christ in the city
interests vested, nothing more, as they say
march into Erewhon, stationed nowhere
Ἡ εἰς ᾍδου κάθοδος τοῦ Χριστοῦ
The Descent of Christ into Hades
Yes, allegedly, it was all my fault
every day, I look back and shake my head
still, it does no good to ponder my luck
pepper, over my shoulder, I throw salt
only wishful thinking, as if things change
still, I am here for a reason, my bed
in an instant, I make, clean sheets, no muck
tintinnabulation, bells, my alarm
in an instant, I wake, to rearrange
visions of past events, mistakes I made
empty the candy bowl, fill it again
let go and start over, to make the grade
yesterday, things happened, walked in the rain
created the universe with no harm
employed as a design model, who knows
really, maybe this was the point, to write
tackle the problems of the world in verse
a florist watches as her orchid grows
insanity repeats, makes a difference
nonsense, nothing happens without a fight
inside my brain, I wait for the black hearse
to imagine why I am here, not there
why you and why not me instead, nonsense
accountability without pity
suffering until death takes me away
harrowing of hell, Christ in the city
interests vested, nothing more, as they say
march into Erewhon, stationed nowhere
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