Welcome Home

I can't take it anymore...

The loneliness, the fear, the constant torture of the unknown.

He whispers to me, planting seeds of doubt.

Why do I bother?

No one cares...I am all alone.

I am at the end of myself.

 

I search for a release from this hell

But every time I reach out, it is in vain.

I finally grab hold of a branch but it snaps.

I fall further.

I fall deeper.

How can I ever get out?

 

I look for a new feeling to experience.

A gleaming bottle, a shinning blade...

They wink seductively at me,

Beckoning me to give them a try.

In a desperate bid for liberation from my suffering,

I succumb to the bewitching steel.

 

My God, what have I done?

My torment has multiplied and I

Am bathed in a bitter shadow.

Enwrapped in guilt and shame,

I sit alone in my spinning thoughts.

I am lost.

 

Through my tear-clouded eyes,

I look at the dark world I have created for myself.

Every corner of it is covered in a foreboding shade.

I begin to scour my dungeon,

Searching for a shread of light to guide me.

In the distance, I see a faint beacon.

 

Cautiously, I move towards it.

I recognize its soft glow as I get closer.

It is a light I have seen before but strayed from.

Could it be that He has been waiting for me to return?

I start to run but I am stopped in my tracks by my thoughts,

After all I have done, would He take me back?

 

I know the answer in my heart and I continue to run.

I can feel him now nipping at my heels,

Telling me that when I arrive the door will be locked.

His talons claw at my ankles, trying to keep me from Him.

Everywhere I turn unseen hands reach out to stop me.

I will not be denied.

 

The weight of my oppressor causes me to crawl to the door.

I raise my hand to knock and it is caught by a cold hand.

He breathes into my ear, "Why bother? No one is home.

You are locked out. You can't be saved. You are lost forever.

No one cares. He doesn't care. If He did, you wouldn't hurt the

Way you do. He has turned His back on you. You...are...nothing."

 

Every word cuts through me like a knife.

Maybe I am beyond saving.

Why would He bother caring about someone like me?

Who am I to approach this door and expect an answer?

But then I recall His promise to me that He would never leave me.

I pull away from the evil one, knock on the door and it begins to open.

 

A luminous light shines forth as the portal opens.

Vanquished is my enemy and I am washed in a healing warmth.

Gone are my sins that carried me so far from Him.

He helps me stand and embraces me.

I lift my eyes and all I can see is His face, shining with love.

But before I can utter a single word, I hear His voice:

 

"My child, welcome home."

 

Author's Note

i think we've all had points in our lives where we thought we couldn't come back. this is definitely about one of those times!

Reviews

[katiie]

hmm... this has some really good lines, a couple of them stuck out to me and i really think your writing has come really far, you are very talented! and the details about like the talons clawing at your ankels...that was one of my favorite lines :] i dunno why but its almost graphic but not ya know? but yesss very dark but in a way i like that.

[shane]

wow, really, i mean WOW!!!!

this is brilliant, i'm not the best at reviews and stuff
nut i really like this, it describes depression, for me, better than i ever could myself ...

[AK]

Whew...! Very nice!!!
Just we we are convinced there is no hope... that is when our hope is revealed.

[Morgan Ashire]

Beautiful. I love this piece. I'm happy to see a free form story poem that, well, frankly, doesn't suck. This is a good piece. I deal day in and day out with writers, both here and in real life, who just can't seem to get a coherent thought or emotion together. Not only that, but you're writing about a forte of mine, religion. I would love to speak with you further about your views and what you feel currently. If you feel stray, I'd like to help you back to him. I look forward to speaking with you in the future. Until then.

A poetic way to make us all look forward.

Always waiting, and in the most glorious form imaginable.

Good use of form and rhythm.

Interesting read.