More and more

Oh Lord, I'm bored. Sad and bored. It's like my big black dog is biting, biting, chewing off my life until I'm just a puff of air, wafting around the world unnoticed.

I don't want to be a puff, but rather a long, deep breath. Pure, clean air which will blow away any fog, drive away the clouds and give others joy.
Joy? That word seems new to me. What is joy? Tell me, I desperately want to feel it again.

All things are new, I'm curious, I look at everything with a questioning face. Most things just are, and some things seem out of place. Me, for example.
Wandering around without a clue, dishevelled and alone. When I speak, no one listens. When I listen, I can't hear.
When I retreat, I can't feel. When I can't feel, I can't feel pain.

The Prayer

Let us begin with a scene.
Colour bleeds away.
Away into a small room,
where I fell on my knees and prayed.

"I have carried my cross to You,
Self-crucified and ashamed.
Naked before the power of truth
and cloaked in guilt and blame.

Voices call from a distant past,
taunting, repeating my name.
I dare not succumb to their cruel farce
of guilt, truth and blame.

You, the man who rose from the dead,
the man who can set me free!
Lay your healing hands on my head
and help me be all I must be!

Give me strength to face the day,
to face another futile war.
A war which eats my soul away,
which takes prisoners forever more.

In the name of the Father,
mighty and pure.
In the name of the Son,
who felt the same pain.
In the name of the Ghost,
who helps me endure,
I must not despair again."

With the prayer being said, I went to sleep.
Filled with dreams of awe and wonder.
Opened my eyes and took a breath,
and the Devil took me under.