The Bells Ring
3 months ago
41
The Bells Ring:
A Poem
How might one know what controls his mind,
With the ebb and flow of passionate wants and needs?
He must occasionally leave it all behind—
The sacrifice rends the curtain—the real man is freed.
The freed man has no leaves or skins to hide,
Planted deep within the soil of a desolate hole,
Blooming with the consequence of sin and pride—
But a contrite heart is the security coffin for the soul.
Kneed and emptied, I am without the energy to flee—
With the passions starved, humility is my new reality.
Sobriety through abstinence, I pray You have mercy.
The bells ring—the doors, the doors point to eternity.
Within a life lived in brokenness, there’s reprieve.
Death is trampled by a death, indeed!
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