Hopeless Faith

by Charles Freeman about a year ago in fact or fiction


Hopeless Faith

Why do I feel so tired and numb, I have everything I want plus freedom, why is it that I don't feel at home within my own skin, that when I smile or grin, the lights that surround me get dim, I feel as though I'm drowning, I can't swim, I feel as though I'm losing, I can't win, I feel as though I'm filled with nothing, to the brim, I feel as though I'll never truly live, so grim, I look deeply into my reflection, but I just don't know him, what suffering remains to be felt, when I perish will I feel myself melt, when I awaken tomorrow will I feel the same way, or will I remain lost and wander astray, farther out into the land that is nameless, into the place where my ruminations have no directions, just aimless, where I never grow old, just ageless, where I have no body or soul, just faceless, where there is no color, just greyness, where there are no gods to laud and love, just faithless, where absolutely nothing makes sense, just strangeness, where things move up and down, left and right, just changes, where I feel no adoration, no hurt, no love, just painless, where I am seen, but never touched, weightless, where I stay, but always move, shapeless, never knowing if my eyes are opening or closing, wakeless, what shall I be, what shall I become, will I be able to outrun the burdens of old, will I bathe in the affluence of tumultuous amounts of gold, will I waiver, stumble, fall or fold, what will be the stories that are told, will they bring the warmth or cold, will I stay whole, or will I erode, behold the king of cogitation, the founder of truth and elation, the raiser of parables and foundations, absolving damnation, instilling creation, giver of sedation, the perfect aberration, the only vibration, the truth, the salvation, behold the clarity of time, the verity that tastes sublime, the rarity that nobody will ever find again, not with a pencil, not with a pen, all will praise, kneel and whisper amen, over and over again, so much veneration all the living and dead will send, over and over again, I pretended to repent, my mind was barmy and bent, I knew I'd never rise only descend, I harmed my soul, seeking out revenge, spiralling into mayhem, I never prayed for them, I was condemned, to fall deeper into my pain, deeper into the empty flame, feign and broken, was I here for a purpose, was I chosen, was this moment woven in a time long lost, what will it cause, peace or thunderous lightning, will it be loving or frightening, will it let you breathe, or will you feel the rope tightening, will you remain calm or start fighting, falling or rising, will it bring all together or will it be dividing, showing us the truth or lying, will we stop, or keep trying, crumble or continue surviving, living on forever and never dying, climbing the walls of the impossible, macerating every obstacle, the unfettered chronicles, unstoppable, philosophically phenomenal, laudable, optimal, dissolvable, horrible, what will be the fact, what will be the truth, you choose.

fact or fiction
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Charles Freeman

Spreading the truth about our own realities to one another opens up a new page in our history.  One filled with the mellifluous sounds of laughter,  the warm feelings of love and the power of caring. So I,  will spread my truth. 

See all posts by Charles Freeman