Ashes, ashes,
Hope dared for collapsing in the hand
I sit this throne of wrenched heart
In my kingdom of the wasteland
A glimpse of joy, of Heavn'ly tempt
I beheld across the sand
Chasing, chasing, toward earthen-circled bliss
Nought but mirage, Siren song, to my place among the wasteland
Beloved, beloved,
Cross'd hell did I for thy hand
But a plight betrayed, by wretched mind
Made lock'd unto the wasteland
Rejoice! Rejoice!
My Quest'd prize was 'tlast at hand
The road assured, with gay apace
To long-wont sweet and restful land
My tryst was kept, my virtue true
Devout to God's command
Trusted I, brought through lonely toil
To my lady's side, be stand
With Providence prais'd, with thanking hymn
Knelt I, with heav'nward hand
A song of joy, of grateful heart
My psalm be surely grand!
Yet at the last, my prize beheld
And sweat'd brow be fanned
Ambush'd was I, by devil'd brain
Wrought long ago proband
My oldest foe, with ceaseless stalk
Upon my mind be bran'd
A blight, a demon, damn'd mania
Does becalm'd thought disband
Cry I have, to Heaven high
For an answer, would I demand
Can't thorn in flesh, not precious mind
Be I allow'd withstand?
No answer come, prayer be in vain
And nought be countermand
Is grace enough, to have the strength
That unquiet mind be strand?
Striv'n I, have I, sought my best
To serve the worthy Lamb
Are thoughts awry my cross to bear
For all my days be spann'd?
Is happy home upon this Earth
Denied my seeking hand?
No child of mine, no warm embrace
Would turbulent mind demand
And all my dreams, asunder torn
A mercy plea cannot summand
Driv'n I, I am, from friends and love
To ruin-strewn hinterland
And here I rule, a maddened place
Damn'd brain does dare demand
That I be lord and master bound
To reign this lonely land
Ashes, ashes,
Hope dared for collapsing in the hand
I sit this throne of wrenched heart
In my kingdom of the wasteland
-- Robert Christopher Knight
4:06 a.m.
November 17, 2013
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16 comments:
You wrote this?
Chris, it's very moving. Sad. And beautifully written.
I don't have bipolar but I saw a glimpse of what you must have to endure.
This is a poignant but beautifully composed poem. Have you thought of writing more?
This part broke my heart..
Cry I have, to Heaven high
For an answer, would I demand
Can't thorn in flesh, not precious mind
Be I allow'd withstand?
No answer come, prayer be in vain
And nought be countermand
Is grace enough, to have the strength
That unquiet mind be strand?
Striv'n I, have I, sought my best
To serve the worthy Lamb
Are thoughts awry my cross to bear
For all my days be spann'd?
Chris, you are a beautiful writer. I can tell that you are hurting. You reached deep into your heart and said things that I don't know anyone else who could. You conveyed pain that very, very few people could endure. I couldn't,
You have a gift. Remember that.
Proband (noun): an individual affected with a disorder who is the first subject in a study (as of a genetic character in a family lineage)—called also propositus
I had to look proband up. That's the first time I've read it. Chris along with all your other admirable traits, you are an incredible poet. I thought this was a classic poem by Byron or Eliot or some other poet, until I saw your name.
Have you seen Doctor Zhivago? You should. I think that is a character who you would have a lot in common.
I'm going to be thinking of this poem for a long time. Yes it's sad. And so very beautiful. My heart tugged as I read it.
Very beautiful.
Apostrophes gone wild.
Chris,
You may not remember me, but we went to Elon together. I wrote you about your abortion column in The Pendulum and told you how glad I was that a voice for the unborn was speaking up. I found your blog some time ago and have been reading it since. This is the first time I saw you write poetry. It really is beautiful and the way you wrote it, no one writes like that anymore. I'm glad you are still writing. Keep it up :)
In Christ,
Michelle
It's beautiful. You painted your pain and hurt with your words. It's a very deep and dense piece of writing.
You are a true poet. You should write more!
Now Chris I have one suggestion. Get rid of your Blogger-based commenting. Get Disqus running instead. All the cool kids are doing it :)
Haunting and heartbreaking. Hold fast to Christ, the worthy Lamb, Chris. He knows you are hurting. Your hurt isnt from God, its from something else. Hold fast to Him. You are precious to us dear brother!
Wow.
This made my throat lump up to read.This was heartfelt and heartbreaking. Heart rending. And Chris, my heart is breaking for you.
Yours is truly the heart of a poet.
After reading The Knight Shift for years, this is the one that hits hardest.
Chris, you are one of the most gifted writers I know in this day and time. This proves it to anyone.
Prayers to you, my fellowservant in Christ,
Neil
Kansas City, Missouri
How long did you work to compose this Christopher?
It is masterful, evocative, very haunting, and beautiful. It reminds me of Longfellow.
Wasteland is a work of rare talent. I urge you to cultivate that. The world needs more poets. Have you written any more poetry?
Start to finish, 2 hours straight.
If you write poetry this beautiful, you can get published. There is a market for it. It may not be a bestseller like J.K. Rowling and John Grisham but it will get you out there and pay a little too.
You should consider it. I would buy a copy :)
Chris, if you wrote this in 2 hrs, that is astonishing to me. I could not have written such heartfelt prose in 2 months or probably even 2 years. You DO have a gift.
May God bless you and meet you as you struggle along your difficult journey.
Godspeed.
If you wrote this beginning to end in 2 hours, this represents the most incredible exercise in poetry that I've ever read. It is as the person before me said: heartfelt. Very heartfelt.
Christopher means Christ-Bearer. And you live up to your name. He has given you rarest talent and I know you've just got started glorifying Him with it. Keep following "the worthy Lamb" Chris. He will comfort you and bring you farther than you can imagine.
Chris:
You are what is best in men. Yours is the most noble and pure heart of any man I've seen. I cannot remember anyone else who has made himself so vulnerable and humble befor God and before others.
God trusts His hardest battles to His strongest warriors.
I think I know what troubles you. I wish I could say something that would heal your heart. I can't imagine the pain you are going through, I've never been in that situation. But you are a GOOD MAN and no one else could have written what you have done so beautifully.
I will be praying for God to give you peace of heart and mind. You deserve to be happy and you WILL be happy.
Chris, I too have a mental illness, chronic depression. You've painted the most vividly true portrait with you words of what it means to have a mental illness. The loneliness. The rejection. Your own mind turning against you. Driving away and being driven away from family and friends. All that is left is an empy land of ruined hopes and dreams.
You have hope. You know it. Like the person above said: God gives His hardest battles to His strongest warriors.
Thank you for giving a voice for those who can't put into words what this is like.
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