Cryogenic Plane – Day 125, Never Give Up On Your Dreamz

Withered and abandoned.
With a rope,
As thick as my sinful arms,
To hang from.
Plagued with a choice every single day I wake up from a vision had of,
A restful life upon the gift God gave me.
A pen,
A journal,
And,
A chance to share a testimony possessing the power to make each,
Frown in front of me dissipate into oblivion.
A story He had written with intention to crush the median divisor.
I can either lay on a bed God made for me,
Or,
Continue losing sleep while singed by a fire,
Ignited by every selfish desire,
Forcing me to stay frozen in place.
Cryogenically still in a world getting colder from the image most hate to face.
Reflections of demons in a mirror we break,
Slipping on each pint of blood spilled from wounds left open to date…