arrogant and assured of victory;
no point in discussion, they don't discuss.
"Your mantras and repetitions, bowing to images,
won't save but damn you," they said, "you'll never
see paradise, only burn in hell if you don't embrace what we are."
"It's alright,“ I said, “I'm not booking to paradise anyway –
and hell would be embracing you, so what could be worse?
I'm not going anywhere," I said, “but I'll tell you where we most differ:
We may both be prepared to be killed for our convictions,
but I will never be prepared to kill for mine."
"We'll send you to hell," they repeated, "but we serve the one true God!"
Reposing in the breath, trusting grace, I replied, "Neither
heaven nor hell await me when your sword falls,
only the Sovereign Presence, and I'll tell you now where I'll be:
In every face you have before you, in every eye you regard,
even as I'd placed myself between you and your victims
and looked you straight in the eye this very day:
I will be there looking back, witnessing, watching, reminding,
beckoning, haunting – you will have no rest. Sleep
will avoid you, no comfort in victory, that will be
snatched from your hands the moment your sword falls.
For you will never be rid of me, I'll be where I am now,
here in the Sovereign Presence, in mantra and in worship,
until that time your heart returns from the dead."
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