A Murder

an ode to the broken hearted

I want to tell you how I died,

How I walked oblivious into a traffic of lies and deceit, how I was used and abused till finally a sharp tongue sliced my throat and I lay bleeding with my spirit and faith seeping from my body.

I have died before, thinking there was a solid foundation of family and forever, but I slipped and fell on  pictures and prose that cracked the base and stole the  heart and mind of what I thought was secure. I remember falling into a dark abyss crawling, climbing, reaching and then finally there was a light to find my worthiness.

But I didn’t learn and I wasn’t secure, so  I was murdered. 

Before my death I fell to my knees “NOOOO!!!!” Like a child I whimpered “not again,  I don’t want to die again the pain was overwhelming, I am afraid I will not survive it”

As I tremble, I walked back into the abyss, and remain in the dark. This will be a long slumber, for my murderer took his time and dug in deep. He ripped part of my soul and broke a part of my faith and shattered pieces of my spirit. He threw them callously and scattered the bits like a coward, strown across the back of another unwanted soul he has tricked into his lair.

My murderer is free, he was not arrested, wasn’t held accountable. He walked away free. He is the devil, laughing at his luck slapping his tail to and fro.

He got away with a murder in broad daylight!

He laughs at my demise, laying with his minions feeding on my spirit and lapping up my faith with his foul mouth, taking pictures of my pain and as I cry, they laugh, as I whine they smile on their bed filled with rodents, piss and death.

The fools they are

They don’t realize that murderers are eventually convicted

The joke is on them, because  GOD sees this and GOD understands what must be done.

For they are GODLESS. If they knew GOD, then they would have known death. They would known that although my spirit died, that I maintained my faith.

GOD will lift me from this dark place and I will rise and be held tight as I walk through the storm

They will tremble at my awakening they will lose everything ad crumble beneath my light. They will fall to their knees with heaved chests, nightmares, broken spirits and pain engulfing their evil ways and devilish tricks.

Yes they have been convicted and their parole is prayer,

but alas…… the GODLESS do not know how to pray.

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