Tripping. Over. Myself.
My breath turns ghost white. I rise to my feet while my stomach falls, with the completion of an action unspeakable by nature but screaming in my mind. My jittery walk begins and my shadow embraces its surrounding kin. I hear the clamor of my footsteps running from me as if they too feared my solemn hour. I don’t blame them. As my setting continues to steal all the light around me, it is no wonder why little life seeks to be truly conscious in the night until the dawn breaks. What were previously familiar figures, now prey on my light that flees them. All seem to have taken in that mockery of light hanging above, there to only to pervert the sun. Now I ponder, what the…
…hell is going on here.
Unapologetic, I fully embrace this. I shrug off God’s light like wiping dust off my shoulder. My walk continues, feeling more lives as significant as grass, suffocate and shatter beneath my boots, almost like stomping on a mirror of my reflection. The shards of others I broke fly now cutting through my feet. My hands slam to the ground joining the carnage of consequences. As now my crawl begins, my hands feel for a luminous path.
Men of God 