Where is the light?
My soul sink swiftly beneath the surface,
Sifting through swaths of sin
And the tendency to repeat itself,
Again and again.
Why haven’t I done what’s right?
Swift winds bellow briefly,
Billowing clouds scud across sullen skies,
Stormy whispers widen grief-stricken eyes,
What lies beneath my mortal sight?
Echoes of blackness reveal
Revelations of repose, reproduced endlessly
In ever-repeating fractals fractured by
When comes the end of my plight?