A chill darkness runs between my toes
Soft mud ready to smother my ankles
Hands sore from clawing at the rocks
Lining the walls of this hole
The same hole I find myself in.
Have I ever left this place?
Was the sunlight in my face
Just a small ruse from the angels?
I kept my eyes toward God
While my black body tumbled
Spiraled down the tunnel
Seeping out of self-inflicted wounds.
Here I am again,
As if I was doomed
Imprisoned the like the hands
Of a grandfather clock
Seeking liberation from this cycle
Only to arrive back at step one,
Reminding me that
I don’t know how to break free.
The exits have been sealed
And my palms automatically latch
To the same ridges on the wall
But, deep down
In the furnace,
My heart hopes
That it gives way
Either due to tears or sweat.
Can my back bare this burden,
While my face watches the
Last clouds of the day whisper goodbye
To the horizon I never truly witnessed?
When will the end come?
What will take the suffering away
And give rest to my frail bones?