It’s here again – the reminding pain

pouring down like acid rain,

Burning my cheeks, searing my heart,

but to keep from falling apart –

I reach out for some medication,

Or some temporary elevation,

Until I rest in sweet sedation,

My soul’s imaginary vacation.

And then the numbness warm release,

Feeling nothing, brings me wanted peace.

Memories run like an ongoing reel,

But the drugs have silenced all I feel.

I hear a voice cry, “Who is your Lord?”,

I cover my ears, as it strikes a chord.

Within my soul something takes spark,

Still I hold on to the thread of dark,

that leads me to a hollow fix

an ongoing series on Netflix,

Like tobacco less smoke in a vape,

I look to the imitator for my escape.

The voice again, “let me heal your broken life.,

Please say that you will be my wife.”

He manifests – walks in my pit,

And declares, it’s me he’s come to get.

“I’ve defeated all you cherish,

the dark defenses all will perish.

I have taken on your grief,

What you feel, I feel – that’s your relief.

Lost in constant aberration,

Momentary freedom then frustration.

This is not life -but loss,

Being real is at the cross.

Your body’s taken repeat offenders,

I ask you, let me be a contender –

To answer to your soul’s constant cry,

accept, believe, Tetelestai!”


copyright Sherry Larson 2017

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