A whisper lingers, "It's just a test,"
Six to the chest, a grotesque mess.
I wear my stress like a heavy vest,
But in Jesus' armor, I find my rest.
A sliver of energy, a cosmic strand,
Atoms and waves, formed by His hand.
The Big Bang's echo, a road to pave,
No grave can hold us—beyond the grave.
Pieces of life, waterlogged, worn,
Swept under carpets, tattered and torn.
Bridges burned, relationships frayed,
A puzzle unsolved, the price I've paid.
Knees bruised, hands trembling, weak,
Hope's a faint light, the future looks bleak.
The devil's fling, where pride once stood,
I'm lost in the dark, searching for good.
They look at me like I'm contagious,
My scars and words, they find outrageous.
Stuck in my head, running fictional plays,
Praying for peace through these endless days.
My life's off track, my heart's under attack,
Homes dipping, stabbing me in the back.
With a bang and a flash, everything's black,
No wife, no kids, no friends—no turning back.
I fail at conversation, it's all about me,
Lost in my mind, where I long to be free.
Tell me your story, let me truly listen,
Soak it in without interruption or condition.
Everywhere I go, I'm my own show,
Nobody stays, they all come and go.
My mind's racing, my soul's degrading,
Praying for God, but my hope's fading.