The Last Battle

June 4, 2012


Here we sit

In humble shed

Before us lies

A kingly spread

The best of wines

The freshest bread

Yet we behave

As if we’re dead


We gather at a table fine.

We bless the bread

we bless the wine

And then proceed

And form a line

Each one receives

What’s mine is mine

While some are hungry

Some still thrist

And we behave

Like we come first


The food now at our lips

Foul taste

We see it now

As if such waste

We cannot taste

Nor give nor bless

Suspicion’s rule

And self’s duress

our taste, our apprehension dulls

what we receive our greed anulls


Oh how dwarfed

Our mind our vision

How limited

When self’s decision

Darkens what by faith is light

And could by giving, put to right.


One comment

  1. Ahh, that shed full of dwarfs in the Last Battle is one of Lewis’ most memorable images! I have met them many times over the years…probably found myself in that shed a few times as well, arguing over trivialities and proving points that don’t mean a thing. Your lines capture it beautifully

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