A Poem For The Weak

On a cold and foggy night, a woman, tall and poised, steps out in the front of a car, hoping to end her life. A man, torn and beaten, falls into deep despair over his long lost love. A child hides from a father, drunk and mad. A wife sleeps with another man as her husband worries and thinks the worst of why she's not home yet. A teenager hides in her room, dark and cold, using a razor, to help with stress. The world is cold. God seems so out of reach for those trapped within the sin of it all. Somehow love never seems to conquer in the world of the dark.
         Darkness of shadows and blasphemy looms about, snaring and tearing all those weak enough to fall prey. The feeling of the cold, dead Earth shatters beneath their feet, making them fall, with no hands to catch them. Missing, deep inside, the true meaning of life, love, and sanctuary. They wonder why this is happening to them. "Why not someone else?" they cry out in thier mist of deep pain. A heart can only take so much misery and betrayal. A heart can only take so much pain and depression. A heart can only take so much.
         The eyes of these misfortunates grow dim, from a Heavenly bright, to a deathly dull. They can no longer see the view of light, God, and happiness. The sorrow they feel deepens their wounds, slicing all hope and restoration they have left in their heart and soul. The searing blade of Darkness and Death conquers all they hold dear and cuts them in half, bringing self-pity and deceit. Lies command their minds to give into the weakest of all dreams. Scattering the faults and complications of the wicked, bringing in the fires of Hell throughout each word spoken.
         Theses unfortunates believe in a higher way of living, but doesn't have the strength to try to make it real. They believe God is the cause of all their suffering and agony. God merely looks down, and with a caring hand, scoops them up. God kisses their cheeks and blesses them. God brings forth their hope and strength. God helps them believe in life, love, and sanctuary. Then when God puts them back down on the Earth, they turn to the same old direction, bringing back their pain and agony.
         Their stubborness is their weakness. Their lack of common sense is their weakness. They blame so many things for their pain, yet they look in the mirror and look into a lie. They believe what they see with their eyes, not their hearts. So back they stumble, drunken, cut, and slashed. They pray for a change, another chance at a different life, expecting a change the next hour. They want to be set free from addiction, to be free from the evil laid upon thier fragile hearts. To restore what precious emotions they have left, they abuse themselves, to remind themselves that life can get better.
         Some are forever trapt inside this Hell hole. Some, somehow, manage to escape and rebuild themselves in the eyes of the Lord. Counting every precious second, every moment, not wanting the good to fade away. Holding onto it tightly, breathing it in. Yes, only some escape the Darkness. Only some actually have enough courage to take a stand to their faults and flaws, to erase their minds of all laid evil upon it. For the rest of them, pray. The weak don't last very long, and time is slipping.