Prose - Journey of the Damned
In her mind’s eye she saw God walking towards her
So sure of it she began to give him all the glory
Life to her became a game of lost and found
She believed even though men wrote the story
“Follow me,” she said, “I know the ways of the Lord”
She had chosen her path and now wished to tell
She loved me so much she cried over my soul
She said, “The road you’re on surely leads to hell”
My spirit cries for an answer
But the birds always fly away as the roots dig deeper
They are unsure of branches that sway in the wind
They thirst for the brook of desire damned by the Lord’s keeper
The eyes of the sun rise each day with renewed hope
Tempting me with wide-eyed assurance
In the mind of a zealot there are no more questions
The answers have been chosen for deliverance
The voices of the past continue to haunt our thoughts
Yet the dead remain mute leaving us with our own cries
We read their words and wait for a stillborn prophecy’s birth
As the day ends the sun laughs through our burnt eyes
The floor rises as each page is ripped from the book of life
She silently watches as I open the dam of my own desires
What piper can play two songs when only one can be heard?
We await the decision as we choose the one our heart requires
Can I ever believe
What I cannot see?
Can I ever see
What I cannot hear?
Can I ever hear
What I cannot feel?
Can I ever feel
What I cannot believe?
Should I take my own life
Because I am doomed?
What life is it
That is a journey for the damned?