The Church Of My Soul Poem by Vision Ghost

I sit at no pulpit beyond that which is my water
A choir does little to dim the heavy hearts interior
A well of the cup to have gone dry of my mistakes
Through intervention of remorse bears all stakes

To pin me to a circumstance of a year past in regret
Of a moment lost of control to fathom human goblet
So I may drink for the forgiveness of charity here within
A peace washes over me to louder my thoughts of sin

A face I will never see again, a touch I shalt not feel
For so now if be a god, then lord find me time to steal
For here on my cold bench within grandeur walls
I sit and be that of the alone one, whose heart stalls

At the moment of breath to swallow consequences
Brought of own hand via rage of all circumstances
For a love so dwells within to not see that of the day
And be so afraid for that on this word another to say

In vitriol of others spat in reactionary condemnation
Be not that to beat me harder for bruising assimilation
Into the non passive of all thoughts my face may bring
As recognition of not the soul but as remembered sting

May become thee who is one to bear gifts of forgiveness
And allow words to penetrate guardianships aggressiveness
For social bonding shattered unto a finality of actions
Dwelt by a fool of emotion and aged constrictions

So here I sit in the silence of purest thoughts reflection
Be not a tear left to soften the dryness of my consolation
That a memory best serves in theft of realities judgement
For the present dealt the loss of the tender touch to augment

Would not one person as I so beseech thee to speech
To guide me now and find the best of wisdom to teach
Teach me of a better way than this, a better way of me
To anoint these future days become, to set all this anger, free