I’m nothing but a shell
of what once was
Coming out of a personal hell
Where, although I did not choose to stay,
still often I would dwell
Unchained but in a cell, it seems,
made from the very cells,
Which make up my physical being
This me
What I am I cannot tell
For it was dark and too inhuman
The pit into which I fell
Clutching before my unseeing eyes
a soul, unwhole, to sell.
Well in my darkness a revelation came
Which raised a chill
No nefarious soul
Would barter its gold
for a spirit appraised at nil
And mine was one such spirit
Shattered, broken, grave, and ill
Filled with foreboding thoughts
and self loathing
Disgraced by my wasted skill
And lack of conviction
Faith, love, benediction,
Consistency and basic will
Still often I’m haunted
By the unwant of the unwanted
So bitter I taste it still
