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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 06, 2016

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Submitted: September 06, 2016



Watch it crumble into pieces,

For restoration is not an option.
And as it crumbles,
Watch this blood of mine pour.
The sorrow is set free,
But yet I still feel it.
For the pain may escape me,
But I am still held tight in its grasps.
This pool around me grows,
And all I see is red--
I said the sorrow could never drown me,
Yet the sorrow insists I am a liar.
I call my less fearless,
And this is no lie--
For anything worth fearing,
Would only be a relief from this pain.
The binding, eternal contract,
Between the body and the soul--
It is coming to an end--
But I've been dead already,
So there is no shift.
Promises of Paradise,
Dante wrote it best,
But my fate is compromised,
There is no happy, eternal rest.
Instead, I am filled with disgust,
For this promised heaven--
It is nothing robust,
But rather a euphanized ravine.
The faces familiar from Earth,
Both unsettling and hateful,
And in a world where such hate is birthed,
What else could one expect?
And while they've named it paradise,
I've simply found the only truth--
Despite the lief you choose to live,
The fork in the road only leads to hell.

© Copyright 2018 Jacob Galloway. All rights reserved.

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