Catacomb Productions


Catacombs house all dead bones, buried in decay.

History, herstory, all stories of their day.

Memories that no one knows.

Memories of friends and foes.

Thoughts that they will never say.


In my own soul, buried deep, rotten stories dwell.

Only good ones surface, while smiles would hide my hell.

Mem’ries buried deep within,

mem’ries of another’s sin

against me, I now shall tell.


My catacomb productions rising from within–

my own creativity healing shall begin.

Words and music flowing out

Hope replacing every doubt

sealed in my soul by her sin.


I mourn youthful years long gone, ripped away from me.

Shame secures the sepulchre, but truth holds the key.

Resurrection sheds a light

on my dark and deadly night.

May this Grace now set me free!


May anger fuel your courage to let your own light shine

on your darkest memory, let in light benign.

Reclaim your own life today

from the one who took away

your spark of light and life Divine.


You need not dwell in your hell of your catacomb,

or wait another day to roll away the stone

that would keep you locked inside.

Rise up now and open wide

the door to the life you own.

© 2003 Cáit Finnegan


~ by caitfinnegan on August 10, 2013.

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