A Place Which Is Not Heaven
(Man's Inner Self)

On dark and moonless night he walks, his footsteps echoing from hidden caves.
Memories like angry dogs, barking behind him, snapping at his heels.
He quickens his pace, concentrates on his feet and blocks his ears to the growling.

But the silence in his head begins to amplify the groans within, tearing him up in two.
As his soul cries out for help he blocks his ears to it also. In time the division is his abductor.
It steals him away and holds him victim to the tortures of his own deepest fears.

Woe to the man who turns inward on himself and away from God, for he finds there only one person - himself.
His own bloodshot eyes staring back at him.

Alone with himself in ancient graveyards.
Temporary pleasures long since obscured by the painful regret that eats his innards.
His throat ripped apart from calling,
Crying out for redemption,
Crying into a wind that leads nowhere,
Crying for a second chance,
Forever crying.