"Dear God,
Please show me what it takes to feel forgiveness
Rid me of all this...generic emptiness
Burn away the regression that fuels my aggression and replace it with conditional Love boundless
If only for a few seconds.
Is that such a difficult request?
I'm not asking for repentance
I'm just searching for a reference
Because in this lifetime of books I've read and written
I've found the answers to the questions are no longer in my possession."

So here across the ashes of my first born poem I walk along the way Wondering if my footprints will lead me back or astray
Or if maybe I should wait here day after day for her to guide me from these flames and fires
Death and flowers
Now or never (over or ever?)
When in these corridors of broken thoughts
Each step I take echoes back to me as gunshots
It's nothing short of a battle hard fought to keep my brain from leaking
But there's enough blood on the ceiling that it really doesn't matter what I'm feeling anymore...

"Dear God,
Please show me what it is that blinds me so clearly,
Makes me doubt there is anyone out there who hears me,
And why I have difficulty believing the air I'm breathing is still pure and fresh
And not infected by the musk of souls gone and passed.
When every step I take kicks up the dust of my past and chips away my granite foundation I ask,
What exactly am I filling my lungs with?"

Self realization...

So as I sit and conjure purple tinted perversions of my versions' story on what used to be a pine tree,
I'm set upon by an apparition negligent of the aversion to my apathy.
She appears to me as a raging fire burning bush churning out the stares of a million eyes glaring from the sockets of one.
In such a shudder I stutter and stumble to find the prayers of when I was younger,
But there were none.
And the instant she appeared was the instant she was gone.

I wasn't even done beginning to start to think of what I wanted to say...