Confessions of A Troubled Spirit


United States
38° 58' 31.0548" N, 94° 28' 10.8372" W

Immortal souls don't last forever.
They are taken by greed.
Frozen in time and space.
Never changing.
Ceasing to live.

I, a son of Adam will perish in the days to come.
I will be bound for the land of fire.
And with me will be a memory of feeling sorry for myself.
Seated amidst the darkness that held a subtle familiarity of the sadness I once knew.

Keep me O Prince of the Sky.
I burn and I pray:
Allow me to raise my eyes and know that your father is there.
For it is only He who can ease my fate.
I stand in the valley of the shadow of death an enemy in the army of the King.

The dark river of insanity flows beneath my feet.
Slowly will I drown in the foggy water and helplessly will I plea for hope.
But I will be denied.
For I couldn't help myself first.

"I am troubled" I whisper in the haunting silence of the sorrow that controls me.
Tears of blood crawl down my face from the pain of a cracking spirit.
I long for my greatest desire.
I reach for freedom in the distance.
Held down by the weights of pain, I fall.

A rope hangs from the sky, a road to my fate.
I will soon place my life upon it.
And agony will be at ease.
But for now, I lay waiting in the hollow space of my dreams.

I climb to the white bars and await the decision of the Great One.
I slowly step forward.
My true death is soon to come.
And I will greet it with no feeling.

Thunder rolls in my ears and I step off.
In the noose hangs the past of the boy that used to be.
Through these confessions of my troubled spirit, shines a ray of light.
And my soul falls far to the grounds set ablaze.


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