E. P., Emotional pain,
It sounds like something extra terrestrial.
And, sure enough,
It is something foreign
To your body,
Something deep within,
Like a message branded on your brain
That never fades away.
E. P., Emotional pain,
The circuit breaker of your brain is overloaded,
And pain and terror and anger
Go screaming through your head
Like a searing message of horror.
"Let us out! Let us out!"
"Listen to us! Listen to us!"
"Somebody believe me! Somebody believe me!"
E. P., Emotional pain,
It's like the childhood from hell
Where innocence meets evil incarnate
And mercy screams with a voice that won't be denied,
Except . . .
We've met the enemy
And the enemy is . . . indescribable
Oh, there is a description all right,
But it is too terrible to relate,
Too horrible to communicate.
Words fail.
And instead of words,
The message is etched on every cell and every fiber
Of one's being
E. P., Emotional pain,
A message beyond words,
Written in the very soul . . .
Longing to be expressed
But far too hellish for mere words to communicate
And so is born a creation of hell . . .
That is called emotional pain.
One may look prosperous, successful, normal,
And still have a prison within,
Where the soul has been locked away forever
By . . .
Emotional pain.
The body is free
But the mind is trapped.
The bars are not visible
But they are just as strong,
Never letting the mind be at ease.
Emotional pain.
A neat trick of the Devil.
The body has freedom,
But the mind is controlled.
Overwhelmed by a horror it cannot shed,
And doesn't know what to do with.
Emotional pain,
How do you explain the existence of evil?
How do you rationalize the suffering caused by wickedness?
How do you survive the hell of witnessing evil,
Which celebrates deliberate pain and agony?
Emotional pain.
Where is God?
Why doesn't He help?
Can He help?
Maybe he's busy at a place called Calvary.
Perhaps He's not immune to suffering either
I guess He has his own . . .
Emotional pain.
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