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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Spiritual · #1150820
A poem of a man fighting with his spiritual demons.(re-edit)
Distraught I found a cold dark well,
one night facing the gates of hell,
I scribe this hell is my room,
my well is a prison,
In the dark I loom,
out of shadows risen.

Why me I scream choked with fright,
resting solemn in the piercing night,
outside a haven for angels am I,
so why not stay till time slips by.

No need to wander out for food,
I'll conjure up a tasteless brood,
Drinking the poison I make,
Poison drank from a tear made lake.

Love me though I sin against you lord,
Sing me the same lullaby once I adored,
Sometimes I'll hide,
lest my soul shall not bide
With a fortune resting in your hands,
My time is ending with your sands.

Cometh not each day for redemption,
better I not come out of my room,
Keep holy light from my eyes with prevention,
Not a church I keep for a bride and groom.

Still I'm hotter in here in this cold dank well,
Preferred it from what not I see ,
that is to reside inside, not out with your hell.
© Copyright 2006 Isan Voncarl (isanvoncarl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1150820-Not-A-Judas-Song-Re-Edit