EMPTY ALTAR

A voodoo doll of pins I was.
I broke my bread for no other.
Turmoil fed the dwelling demons.
I was tangled in unholy incarceration.
Wretched words vomited onto lives around me.
What a hollow,fragile shell.
One Sunday morning,strewn sunbeam paths.
Under angelic statues,through a century entrance.
An open book before me,pages blown by summer wind,
landing on profound scripture.
Colored glass transformed light into expression.
Swirling through,like visible echos.
Happiness drove like a spear through my heart.
Reminding me how to cry.
Arms outstretched,I walked the pew tops
to an empty altar,with engraved words.
A shadow peeled away from me that day.
Screaming in agony,as it slowly collapsed within itself.
I stared for hours,at the man nailed to wood,
all the while,mumbling questions of vanity.
He still brought me every answer.
It's amazing how a man like me,
can fit through a door of grace,and salvation,
Swollen with pride,and carrying burdens 10 times his size.
Not to mention the shackles of sin.
I found the only thing I needed...
While not knowing I was looking.