Maybe I need some divine intervention
Maybe I need god to descend from the heavens
And stop the stress and fix the rest and
save me.
Maybe faith is something I’d use daily
Maybe there’s a chance it would take me
down the path of the righteous and make me into someone
I’m not.

But how nice it must be, to feel free of this
ungodly weight on my back, to breathe a
wholesome, clean chest full of air into this
infected, shell of a man.

Oh, the simply joy of feeling born again in a world where your life’s all a part of some holy man’s plan, and your problems are dismissed under the guise of pure bliss.

Holy light sears the skin of all impurities. It alleviates the mind right out of the skull.

But the heart wants what the heart wants. And it wants the darkest, sweetest of sins.