Patmos Isle

The life of a Pastor, one who has been beaten and left to die by his own kind.

Location: Texas, United States

I consider myself as one that has seen the dark side of humanity and has lived to speak of it.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005


I have laboured in vain, I have spent my strength for naught and in vain.

My mind is like this thick fog, and in the distance I hear the faint sound of a lighthouse, men who say that a light house has no noise, then you have not stood in the darkness and listened to the power of light as it cuts through. I hear it's sound but I cannot see it's saving power.

I cry aloud thinking someone will just whisper back, yet the silence robs me of my hope, I shrink back, so that I might not taste that bitter empty void upon my lips. So I sit in this thickness, I sit in this void, I remain, hoping that someone might stumble upon me. Even if they killed me, even if they robbed from me, just that someone see me, just that someone recognize me in this darkness, they can have their way with me, they can have their pleasure with me, just touch me in this void, just let me hear the rage in your voice, let me just know that this night is not empty.


Post a Comment

<< Home