Many of us live in self-made cages
Somewhere across the border of my mind
I find no sleep. My cells are dying.
Try as I might, I cannot deny
The ravings of my mind.
I trip, hit the floor
The stench of evil assaults my senses
Why do I find myself lying
in blood soaked mud beneath the cross?
I watch as his side is pierced
I hear thunder, the voice of an angry God
Lightning, breaking the dark patch of ground
I am quivering on
My clothes soaked, stuck to my body
I wonder, how many bars of soap will I go through
Before I am washed clean?
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