My skull pressed hard against the wall

Looking for a door

Because the one that I used to use

Doesn’t seem to open any more

A prisoner of my madness

War inside my head

What is truth? It’s meaning

Surely what I dread…

Exposing every folly, deluded selfish dreams

Corruption of my lowly flesh

Secrets bursting at the seams

Who am I?

What am I?

A contradictory man

Searching for a worthy hill

Upon which to make a stand…

Simply made of mud and blood

With the sacred breath of life

Can justify my every fault

To the demons of the night

Crawling around on hands and knees

Surely there’s a key?

An opening to my torment

From the man I try to be…

Yet that is all just vanity

Hiding behind virtuous acts

Heart is willing but the flesh is weak

That is the only fact

God’s grace is just enough

No more or less I need

Just the perfect measure

To truly set me free…

Compelling me to show mercy, love

To my fellow man

I think I have found a hill

Upon which to make a stand

A hill outside a city wall

Where a true man hung and died

Not to start a religion

But exposing all the lies

To return us back to Eden-Eternal paradise

Taking away what is sin 

Opening up our eyes…

Yet my head still bangs against the wall

Still searching for that door

Knowing in my deepest soul

I have been here many times before

Wrestling with the love of God

Like waves against the shore

All my strength has left me

Feel I’m slowly drowning

In a sea of grace and peace

Floating while sinking

I’ve finally found release………..

M C Bolton January 2024