Pits Of A Burning Soul

What is this feeling rotting inside each pit of my mangled soul,
Where hot lava flows,
Dropping all along a set of bones,
Refusing to erode?…

I don’t think I’ll ever know.
Because,
It flows in different currents,
And.
It’s been reoccurring,
During phases distinct from each other in a life I haven’t been sure of,
For the last several years…

A guaranteed misery!
Pondering questions only answered with synergy,
Between you and who you call God when you bend your knees,
When you praying for your life to alter…

But,
How?
And,
Do I live and let die making it my life’s mission to figure it out,
Then,
Die…
After alterations I may or may not have signed off on?
Or,
Keep allowing my flesh to decide each path I dare to walk on?
Either or,
One thing is known.
Every time my flesh directs my way for me,
Smoke comes out of both ends on each side of that hole,
I’ve crashed into and…

When is that ever a good sign?
For those stuck in weeds while mourning countless opportunities to outgrow every seed planted deep!
In soil mindless cogs try to farm and cultivate into their own…

Maybe,
That should be my main goal,
After all.
Solving puzzles through His word before darkness would cross my mind anytime danger calls,
And,
Flips through paper full of new stories to a pair of eyes,
Only seeing light beyond a flame setting my entire life!
On fire…

Post-humous!
Every piece of work is since I’m not considered human.
A ghost!
Who can blur the brightest hues in the face of scrutiny for choosing,
Guidance from a father I’ve never got to know…

By any accord,
I owe it to the one above,
To adorn teachings I’ve ran away from out of fear of walking into a storm,
I may drown in if I don’t see it through the Rough,
As I wake up with one question every single day.
“Now,
What do I choose?”
Another spliff when I trip and fall for another puff and a daydream of booze,
I really haven’t had in a while.
Or,
Go cold turkey since I’m hungry for a tastier slice of life,
And,
Not just from a hotpot of pie,
Rotting inside from its filling of lies,
Anyone can only like as an acquired taste that goes back in the pile,
Of garbage we often forget to tie and dump out back…

Flesh rots and will degrade,
But,
Not your high spirit,
Nor dreams only you can see regardless if others can’t see their own till this day.
A domain of peace God protects you during the absence of light everybody has to face,
Whether we like it or not.
So,
Why not choose the one place where I won’t burn before filling out my given plot on a page,
Instead of the same damn cage,
I’m…
Still trapped in…