prison

The past is like a prison

I am serving a life sentence in it

My present conforms to the bars of my cell

And

There is no hope for rehabilitation

Each day the future rots on the tip of my tongue

Blasphemy rolls maddeningly past my lips as if driven by a steel horse train

Horror takes the shape of a sword in mouth and a pair of burning sapphire eyes

I await the finality of future events with self fulfilling anticipation

My mind races from one mistake to the next like the ticking guts of a clock

I am completely still, clawing at the void from which all thoughts are birthed

I am a silent witness to one robbery after the next as my hope is plundered.

My faith walks its last mile to a lethal injection from the past

And I am blameless, yet blamed

Resurrected, yet crucified

Innocent, yet riddled with guilt

My prison is the past and fate is my jailer.