Another poem written thanks to a great song: http://www.last.fm/music/Isis%2B%2526%2 ... _/Low+Tide
I can take these moments and shove them deep
down into my chest, where they belong.
Feeling a little hemmed in; no space where I dwell now.
Wooden box, so dark and cold, furnished for my demise.
Prepared to go, I’m folded into myself.
The nails are in, and there’s no turning back.
All I see is an oak wall, staring back at me,
centimeters from my nose.
I must admit my weakness, my shame,
my fear of having gone the distance,
it may not be enough for where I’m headed now.
Gained so little, lost so much,
when is there ever a catch in luck
for a wretch like me? I think none exists.
Man is the pinnacle of man, and nothing else.
Take me down, carry me up,
help me find where my cell is.
If you can do that, I will testify
give off all the evidence and the reasons
as to why I said thus, or offended others,
or brought shame to God for all of his love.
I have seen where this monster sleeps,
and I hear it calling, my name pronounced perfectly.
And to the darkness, I surrender all, leaving nothing left.
