The Pit, The Light, The Rain

A Poem by Edenexile

A poem about the past

The pit is deep, the pit is cold.
My chords have grown worn and old,
from screams that stirred the dirt and mold.
Where am I?

The pit is dark, the sky's a moving picture.
It's a display of things I ignored in scripture,
for regret is a violent motion picture.
What am I seeing?

My God, a display of what once was,
of actions a sinner thinks and does,
and I cannot turn away because. . .
I know what I am seeing and I know where I am.

It's a dark place, the past,
and regret's a feeling that truly lasts.
It's like a black slime on all the body's mass.
It's cold dwelling in the past.

However, the sky displays a future too,
and is darkest before dawn's light breaks through.
I have known always that the light shows true.
When it's here, I know to ascend.

Behold the light arrives, and rain,
bringing the pit on me in pieces and pain.
It is a baptism that softened the pit's dark grain;
and makes it easier for a strong soul to break through.

I am satisfied, I am free.
On solid ground I start to scream
with joy as I continue to dream and run
forward. . . never to fall in the pit again.