The Conflict

~Here is an old piece of poetry/writing/scribbles from 2000, the journal entry with it expressed a desire to understand faith. It also detailed my conflict with living and the consequences that would follow according to Christianity for those who lost their own battle with living. This appears to be a very raw draft, folded and not looked at again. I wanted to revise it before posting, but I did not so good luck reading it.~

Now I sit fooling you.

You think you know what I am about to do.

To bad I am not actually being, what you wish for me to be.

It's almost over now, that dead wish, close your eyes and pretend to see,

The love of life, no longer inside me.

You try to fool, but you don't last, keeping that fake laugh.

Eyes gloss over, then I know, your denial can no longer show.

Here is where I lay my head to die, here is where I begin to cry.

That desire always seems to grow,

To bad I am gone from the blow.

Maybe life will be kind, allow death to venture inside.

I doubt dear wisher of life, that you will allow such an act to sigh.

It's breath soft and cool. Such as that of a winters pool.

No longer you feel the vines upon thy neck. Only caressing of sweet gentle death.

"Maybe it is to much to ask, but thy god does not reply,

how can I," I ask thee, "begin to smile about life's uncertainty?"

You reply, "dear ignorant one, close your eyes, and then you will see the life my god has given thee."

So I close my eyes, what do I see?

Not what you promised me.

I ask thee, "how are you able to see?"

Thee replies, "I believe. You would to if you knew just what god gave you."

I take this all in stride, now I wonder, why cannot this be open to me?

So I ask, "how can you believe?"

Thee replied, "god touched me."

I no longer can hold this feeling, I want to welcome death's touch to my hand.

"If I were to jump, and feel the cutting rocks, would thy god stop and touch, this simple sinner, this lost soul, for this is what your bell appears to toll."

Then you look upon me, your eyes sadden with the thought, you no longer try to abide, you just sit and sigh.

From this point I fall from the cliff, and my dear wisher of life your dear god did not touch my side.

As I fall, I hear your voice "I pity thee, for you will now never know, the virtues even you hold."

I feel nothing when I hit, I only hear this rip.

Sounds as though someone tore the clothes they bare.

I fumble a minute and then slowly stand, moving myself upward upon my feet.

In the distance I see, a perfect light of sanity.

My journey is long, but I put forth my effort and begin my adventure for hopefully the winters pool.

Along the way I came across a young fellow, his eyes are cool, hair cleanly cut, dressed in black, and shimmer of something, something I cannot tell what.

"Come with me dear child, and I will show you the way," he speaks with confidence, absently and uncontrollably I place my hand in his.

We walk on towards the light I wanted to see, and then the fellow turned to me, "Do you believe?"

Before I could answer he disappeared and in his place a woman is there. Long silky gown, all in white.

She smiles and whispers, "Dear child your heart is true, but your soul is confused."

I look upon the ground and I realized the simmer from the man is upon my feet, a rosary.

I bend to pick it up, placing it gently in my hand, the soft warmth growing.

I looked up to find no one at my side.

I put my hand upon my face to wipe the tear rolling softly upon my cheek.

As I bring my hand back down, it is then I realized my hand was bleeding, cracked open wide.

Then it all went dark, and now I know what thy meant, to close thy eyes and to see, not only him, but what thy truly be.