Matthew Elam, C’14

Guilt-ridden, I searched

dogmatic tombs,

hoping corpses

would hold the glory,

the resurrection,

to change this suffering heart

to healing hands.

But bones are bones,

flesh is rot,

and silent mouths bear nought

but silent, swollen tongues.

The beating heart I sought

never sounded in the damp;

I saw no life save the one

I carried with me

and realized

that’s all I’d need.

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