h1

20

June 16, 2008

 

there is a darkness

I have known its presence
encountered its essence

it frightens me

it frightens me
because it is

because it is
so very devious
sinister
debilitating

all-consuming
if granted license

it lurks in shadow
collecting

collecting the dark matter
that steals into my life
into my heart

all the grief
failure
pain

all the terror
that has ensnared me
in times of weakness

all the empty blackness
that has befallen me

that has found a corner
of my soul
in which to hide

to sulk

secure foothold
like an awful seed
taking root

here it grows

here it dwells
manacled and restrained
in times of strength

kept in check
by my decent self

my self that loves
encourages
supports

that embraces possibility

my sacred self
that nurtures

that fosters empowerment

but

my inner-dwelling light
does not always shine
so bright

does not always hold sway
nor control
my inner darkness

my inner darkness
has great cunning
powerful influence

it is
at times
quite un-containable

this darkness
that has fed
upon the horror
that has been visited upon me

the betrayal
the abuse
the unthinkable loss

that has compounded
and festered

that has become animate

as if an entity
unto itself

that has gripped
and driven me

distraught
despaired
vengeful
unforgiving

driven me
to a perverse
unholy
bitterness

wholly unable
to fend off
the clutches
of this malevolence

it is
on occasion
far easier

even desirable

to succumb
to these dark forces
that promise
relief

falsely entice
with imagined
satisfaction

but there is
no quick release
from the pain

from the sorrow
that is
an inherent component
of life

one must
endure

and be tempered
invincible
by this endurance

steadfast
in the crucible
of resistance

but

the inner-mounting darkness
will ever seduce

its tug is powerful

I pray
here tonight

as I am swept up
in bittersweet memory
of you

overwhelmed
by the sorrow of loss

I pray
that the darkness
does not sense
that I am vulnerable

does not prey upon
my growing distress
that falls shadow-like
across my soul

that veils
my resolve
my courage

I pray
that the black void
does not birth
the despair

the anger
that begets
my other

my alter

my poison self
that I so detest

…and fear

 

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One comment

  1. The most beautifully penned need for Jesus I ever read.



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