I hear the sirens
And the horns all around
Akin to the words affirming my thoughts
Though in an attempt to dissuade them.
Not one word of validation all the day
Or comforting hug from one that does not seek to step into my skin
My shoes
Or my soul.
I am one missed pill away
From the world and its debauchery...
One missed pill away from surrender to a mind laden with decay;
As though a bullet wound
Or permanent nail to the head-
What's it like to be dead?
Gentle, I bet.
With a timing like no other to shake me out of this void - this machine
Its mechanisms that destroy
And turn the Son away from me.
Is the Spirit lost? Can it not see?
O' Lord, He can't be bothered
To mend me my release.
-
Author:
coracaodacripta (
Offline) - Published: October 30th, 2024 17:37
- Category: Religion
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
A poem that talks about healing and self vindication. I hope am right by the way. Glad I read this!
I think I was trying to convey something more along the lines of doom and unyielding salvation. It's very personal. I'm glad you interpreted it this way, because maybe that's what I should mean.
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