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
Urban Dandy London 