Untitled - July 11, 1998

Hollow, hollow - 
that is what I feel -
a vessel of emptiness
that would sooner overflow
with the bitterness
that overwhelms me.

If I were to go, 
I don't believe too many
would mourn the loss - 
for it would be a removal
of the blight
that tarnishes the shine
upon their honour.

It is not really a loss -
perhaps better seen as a release
from this cell
that is the invisible prison
of my life.

Without honour, I am nobody,
risen from the dust,
as Adam's child, I return.

Soon, that day comes
when this frail body
becomes one with the earth -
and the soul, my soul!
will leave
to embark on the journey
beyond living.

And that day will be
a day of joy - no longer
of pain.

I look to that time,
with great yearning
and anticipation.

I put back my feelings
into that box of ice --
better not to feel anything
than to constantly face pain.

The pain draws my attention
away from the fear,
the hate,
the cold that exists
in my life.

Pain dulls your sense
to all others - 
to watch life
through a hazy window
that cannot look away.