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Inside the Mind of a Troubled Soul
Day and night i sit and ponder about what I've lost and why I've lost it. Will it be returned to me or will i forever be searching for something beyond the reach of a mortal man? Why must I sit idly by when no one else need search beyond their own home? I came to the place of my upbringing so that i may find it in the past, but the memories only deepen the sadness and plunge me into another damp chasm of hatred and regret. I've searched the stars, the moon, and the sun and still not a trace to be found. I've dropped to my knees and begged my savior to show me the way, but it seems this is a quest for me and no one else. Will he forgive me for failure, like he has an innumerable amount of times before, or is this noble pursuit the final straw to see if this Child of the Stars is fit to remain on God's Earth? Maybe I'm not. If God decides that I am too much of a failure to remain here then so be it. If felicity is something I am programmed to never achieve then I'm better off leaving. Hating myself and others while wearing a sparkling mask that says otherwise is a paradox that my sensitive soul cannot handle anymore. which is more sinful, living a lie or releasing the beast, of my own inner hatred, to ravage this land that i was taught to love, and truly desire to love again? No one knows the answer to that, except for Jesus himself, and he wont show me the way.
But wait!! Is he not the hand that wrote this chronicle of my own indignation? Was he not the muse that engraved all of these letters into my soul in the days of the conception of the stars? Yes indeed it was him, and what a joyous soul he has made me for that gift. Every poet, musician, and artist on Earth owes their craft to him, and I think I am ready to receive mine. Not for my own gain, but so that his name may be chanted across the Earth in joy and delight.
Yes I think I finally see the light in this tunnel and my mood has shifted entirely from what it was in the beginning. I can never thank the father enough for the miracle that just took place in my soul.
But wait!! Is he not the hand that wrote this chronicle of my own indignation? Was he not the muse that engraved all of these letters into my soul in the days of the conception of the stars? Yes indeed it was him, and what a joyous soul he has made me for that gift. Every poet, musician, and artist on Earth owes their craft to him, and I think I am ready to receive mine. Not for my own gain, but so that his name may be chanted across the Earth in joy and delight.
Yes I think I finally see the light in this tunnel and my mood has shifted entirely from what it was in the beginning. I can never thank the father enough for the miracle that just took place in my soul.
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