Poetry

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Fear drowns out any love in me;
   coddling it in favor of neglecting those I would love.
My fear makes me focus on myself;
   I see no one beyond me.
Fear is the band holding my mask of Pride in place;
   if I fear being hurt, I hide behind prideful anger.
My fear of my sin being found out
   becomes prideful self-righteousness.

Sin ruins my eye; 
   I see the world through it.
Sin taints the window of my soul,
   the basis of my thinking and discernment.
In my sinfulness, 
   I perceive everyone else committing it.
If I am a liar, 
   I believe everyone else is dishonest.
It is addictive, becoming a practice, a lifestyle;
   there it is difficult to leave behind,
      and the lie produces the Liar;
         thievery, the Thief.
My sin becomes 
   the centerpiece of my being.

My trap robs me of any possible joy,
   knowing I can't be free.
There is no joy for this slave.
I wake up to my deeds,
   dreading the day ahead.
All I know is what I am doing,
   like the chain to a heavy iron ball;
      this, my lingering Guilt.

The pattern goes on and on,
   producing nothing of value;
      my Do-Nothing Machine.

© 7-14-2012

"...without Me you can do nothing." ~ John 15:5b

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