Perfected Pace Poem by Trevor Schulte

I walk in a plain of sorrows,
each step forced with the idea of contentment.
Burdensome features mark the path
as I conform to the idea that nothing need be done.
The lies hurt as I give way
to pain that subsides even the biggest of facades.
Again and again I persuade myself
that these issues be put on a shelf.
My eyes are forced down
as I look in the dreaded mirror,
afraid to confront the only person
in which I fear.
Why oh why must I lie, and deny,
giving up all hope on a second try.
At which point will all passivity be passed
beyond my passive past.
When will the desired truth be told
and hold to being bold as my pride starts to fold.
How much farther must I run
with my sins on my back,
burdening and breaking
the only strength that holds me up.
The lies that I form,
seem to transform,
into separated ways
as my heart is torn.
Belittling myself
is what it has come down to,
as I walk in my own shadow
to the last sunset of truth.
But must that be the way to give out
or can I rearrange my fate of doubt.
Could a sinner like me,
finally break free,
raising the heat of passion,
to another degree.
Yes, I will be better than myself
shoving the issues off the shelf.
I will begin to pack
these wrongs in a sack,
to pass on to my Savior's back.
I will push past relativity
and reach for immortality.
For now all the strides
of my past facades,
will fall into the footsteps
of my Saving God.