Deep Breath

The heart that I’ve sown has grown into granite, 

chiseled and sealed off while taken for granted.  

It lies. Desperately wicked. Slabbed in the morgue.

The reaper does come... 

And with no remorse.

The reaper.  A creeper.  A sinister finisher.  

I just don’t believe this is how he has finished her.  

Nuptial time lapse as everything flaps in the winds of his hurricane, 

with “wins” that bring more pain... strain... and no refrain.  
Nothing gained.  But in the eye it’s calm, yes?

Calm like Cain.

 Moral setback.  Mortal combat.
I just want her to come back.  
Instead it’s like stand back, 
while I try to just get back, 
most times I just fall flat, 
and I’m down on the wrong track.  
I wait on a train to roll over the pain.  
It’s inception.  It feels so insane.  
Meanwhile the flames… 

Oh the flames.

Burning every green tree, and dead tree in my head scene, 

and I can’t seem to tread clean through all the debris.  

Pushing my way through, from the south to the north, true… 

I never know what to do.  And, the pride. 

Yes, the pride, too. 

But the pride is all gone and the fall has begun, 

as the fog falls upon everything that I've spun.  

Is the fog from the bliss?  Is it smoke?  Is it mist?  

It’s blinding me nevertheless,
I don’t even know what I’ve missed. 

Take a deep breath.

Until my lungs swell there’s no way to tell… 

and the Spirit says "just breathe me in".  

Yes, the Spirit says I must breathe Him in.

In spite of that call, instead of the draw,
my breath is held still, once again.

What sin.