A wake up call to my imaginary friend

A wake up call to my imaginary friend

This is a wake up call to my imaginary friend,

doubt,

that I convieniently named SIN.

You're the whisper in the wind as i try on my big boy pants.

For the first time,

or the last always the airs thickened.

The chants got louder.

Like fire ants your march tramples the ground,

my foundation laid about in that need to be seen.

Stinging to the soul, to a mind honeycombed with holes that are doubt.

Sprouting feelings, my own demons lying deep down within me around my thoughts,

but still my cry has me standing here,

nervous,

yet again smiling radiantly to conceal that familiar frown of SIN.

Not of praise or prestige but to highlight the things that disturb the thrown,

this body vessel belonging to the glorified prince.

The prince of light.

Our faith against the darkness.

Those mistakes on paper,

my eraser of sin.

Sin so pure in it's form that your shadows speak to me themselves,

carefully calculated like the INs and OUTs of a needle pin.

Delving deeper into the depths, the constant truths behind a veil of deceit,

tragedy,

leading down to the roots that are sin.

Lean on me echoes in the wind always in my midst welcoming to a feast,

fists,

but I'm entirely full-filled with lies.

Lies that leave me satisfied with so many failed tries.

Of course I tried and I failed so so many times.

But my success lies in these failed tries.

Those silent jabs at midnight,

and by midnight I mean that time I stumbled on my spotlight.

You there as cheery as a mime. Silent.

So maybe I might read between the lines or ignore them completely.

Doesn't matter,

because the only truth I'll know,

and certified by many,

is the choice is all mine.

13/03/16✅