7 Years
(Coming to the end of myself, I abandoned myself to God's grace)

Seven years have passed and his shackles grown heavy.
No longer able to crawl, he collapses inwards upon himself and into darkness and despair.
Through exhaustion comes the scout of his subconscious, hunting him with tireless determination.
Face to face with death, horrified by its grin.
One last breath of life. He turns away. And closes his eyes to the world.

Opening the doors of his filthy sanctum to the wind, in a furious passion he is emptied.
Cleansed of the ghosts that taunt and tease from within and empowered to smash those without.
Through the clouds of abuse pours the heat of the morning, just born.
Fire and water drenching his weary soul. Volumes of life welling inside.
His last breath becomes his first.