Distant Present

Considering the state of my emotions when I wrote this I'm not surprised I forgot about it...but I was looking through the stuff I've written and stumbled over this poem I wrote about a month ago. It was on a day that I was feeling really, introspective and...kind of down about myself and life. Things got way better, but that day at co-op and after was torture to my conscience.
Enjoy :-)
~ Jon ~

An Imperfected Storm
~J. Fedor

My heart hung from a tree,
Afflicted by sweet memories,
By terror and fervor I’m bound,
Emotions the head will confound.

My soul rests inside glass,
Imprisoned by fears come to pass,
Reflection all around, I’m seen,
What do these silent thoughts mean?

My path traces the edge of a blade,
Past choices cannot be unmade,
High stakes, sharpened paths are before me,
Slip of foot ruins hope eternally.

Yet in the end, direction lost,
Like russet bliss to winter’s frost,
Seasons end, my heart was torn,
The path’s now empty and forlorn.

Life is now an empty shell,
Stale wind’s whispers foretell,
Of existence lost and jaded,
The light of my star all but faded.

Cosmic thoughts, eternal will,
Speak of One my heart who’ll fill,
But agape and His remedy,
Deserve none of sinful me.

Not accepting am I the grace given me,
Too late I’ve arrived and nothing I will be.
Why then the Son, moon, and stars?
God must have purpose for them from afar.

As is Autumn un to the Spring,
A longing in my heart will bring,
A desire for being redeemed,
But God’s good plan for them, is not His will for me.

Torment, depression and despair,
Doubt, the evil one’s wares,
These he offers at bargain price.
I bought, I fell, and hang now here,
Dying in a web of vice.

Cold hard morning dawned upon this earth,
She still remembers joy of virgin birth,
But my heart, broken, apostate,
Only to falling can still relate.

Book closes, curtain falls,
Scene ends, we build walls.
To forget that life, now I pray,
Shut the door, must nothing stay. (?)

Exit the chapter, turn the page,
Weep only for a passing age,
A path of my choosing stretches on,
My love soul lost, new clothes will don.

But yet again I stand still,
My feet deny themselves the will.
Move forward to face the doubt!
Struggle of progress’s what life’s about.

Two halves of life I see,
Two terms: reality and fantasy.
The latter’s purged from heat of strife,
The former’s barely hanging on to life.

Obliterated are the past and present,
Future’s challenge He underwent,
With ½ heart, I’ll attempt this too…
But Why? My only wish was for you.

With flourish and strength of soul,
I’ll press on toward unknown goal,
Leaving behind pain and suff’ring,
Humbled, broken, cold, yet warm,
Hold me now, for never let go,
Pull me out, and away from this storm.

Thanks for listening....leave comments if you feel the impulse to do so....