The last lie I told lay exposed as it fell from my lips —
naked before the sharp and smiling stares,
now not just of disrespect, but contempt.
Years ago that was, and I burn with shame still.
And when I burn another way — as men are known to do —
I know these eyes belong to God
but I live in a body and I have no wife,
and my heart is broken, and I’m alone.
I have the habit of solitude, learned from ancient betrayals.
It’s a reflex now, quick flight and refuge,
stomped out exile of focused rage.
And more than peace, sometimes, I want revenge.
I’m not a humble man, but swift and strong, and proud.
And pain I can’t ignore I store up,
and facts I can’t recall I look up,
and I don’t ask for help and won’t accept it.
But what will I do
when I burn
and when I crumple
I will put on the armor of God
and bind myself in truth
and wrap my heart in righteousness
and follow the path of peace
and put my faith in God.
It's hard to just say it flat out, but this is, or course, an application of Ephesians 6:11-17. Take a look at it.