Updated: May 28
I reached for the key to undo hell's shackle.
An old story of a God residing in a tabernacle.
In this dark I laid bare in the cold lifeless lair.
A ghost in a shell a remnant of me.
The time past of a fruit bearing tree.
Sunken eyes read words to separate flesh from bone.
I turned that key and bolted for home.
Trusted love to see my broken shame.
He lifted my chin and called my name.