A Second Chance…



A Second Chance…

There are times when I am dreaming

that I believe outside my door is the

gateway to the city of doom; nevertheless

each night when I sleep I open the door

walking into another sphere of everlasting

pain, mentally and physically. No one

pushes me through the gate, I walk willingly,

and I feel confident that I can handle the

tragedy that I know will be waiting there for

me. Tucked deep inside the confidence

there is fear, within the fear there are secret

things, distrust and lies.

The darkness is the most evil; a blood red moon

framed by the stars hangs above me. Hearing

strange tongues frightful and shrill, filled with

anger, strikes fear into my heart. Sometimes I

weep as the outcries reach my ears, as I do not

have a stainless claim to my own life. I fear for

the souls, even the depths of hell may refuse

them and they will be lost forever in the


I question is there hope with death, will we

have memories of the earth and of the lives

that remain when we are gone? The souls

that I hear are loud, their tears are blood red,

and each is crawling in vile mud. I lower my

eyes. will they have rebirth, if they lived in

blaspheming is this terrible wailing their fate.

A bitter flood rushed over me as each pass to

their final resting place. They seem conscious

of their nearing doom. It is in this darkness

that each was given a second chance to feel

the love of God upon their faces, they refused.

Afterwards the ground broke from beneath

their feet, and I seem to be sinking with them

to a senseless dreadful shore and I am afraid

that I will not wake from this nightmare.





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