Patmos Isle

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

Name:
Location: Texas, United States

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

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Casket

I hear their words, yet they are muffled.
I see their tears drop from their face, yet I feel them not when they fall upon me.
They say I look so peaceful.
They say I look so natural.
They have judged me by my smile.

Yet they do not reach out to touch me, nor do they lean in to kiss me.

I feel cold.
I feel stiff.
I feel that I want to move, yet I cannot.

What is he saying? I so need to know.

Why are they crying?

Why are you all here? What has happened that you all have appeared?

I smell flowers.

I think I hear singing, yet I cannot make it out.

Is that scripture they are reading?

What does he mean... The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.

Why does she stand over me? Why does he shake his head when he looks at me?

Why have they laid me upon this silk?

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