Alone,
Cold.
Crying for my fate,
My soul is sold.
Tears fall,
To the forsaken ground.
Abandoned and forgotten,
My crying the only sound.
Fell for sin,
Fell from grace.
Twisted and pain filled,
Is my bloody face.
Not in heaven,
Not yet to hell.
Into purgatory,
Is where I fell.
Living yet dead,
Wounds never to heal.
Agony in my breath,
Hurt all I feel.
My inner peace,
Taken away.
In this lonely cold place,
I’m fated to stay.

Ace,

This is a very powerful depiction, a fall from grace
told in epic proportions and yet utterly personal.
Your words are hauntingly real.

I am intriuged with the many references;
'soul is sold', 'forsakened ground', 'sin', 'grace', 'heaven', 'hell', 'living', 'dead',
'agony', 'peace'.

I'm left with the uneasy question,
what follows such a death as this?

Let me know what you find there,

S.