The Escape
This salvation,
Deeper than the hollow of my grave
Stares back with menacing
Eyes, void of hope, but lacking fear.
I stall,
As doubt and cowardice penetrate
The core of my being and
Whisper not-so-sweet nothings to my soul.
The door,
Sealed shut by my own vindication
Stands behind me, and
It cannot be opened; you are too late.
My mind,
Spurred by instinct and reason
Tries to turn me and
Unlock the ever closed window of faith.
But my heart,
Defying the remnants of hope that keep me captive,
Forces me on and makes me act;
“No one could mourn you.”
A finger,
Possessed with my own devil,
Moves slowly but surely;
And it is over:
I no longer follow blindly.
(2012)
