Poetry

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© Bob Barra, 6-29-07

I breathe in heat, scorch my lungs
No water to meet and quench my tongue;
I sense the presence of many around,
So dark’s their essence, it has a sound;
The sound’s a scream that feels so thick,
A pain extreme, my skin it pricks
It burns like ice, so very cold,
And churns my stomach, a sickly hold;
The lack of light is very heavy,
Saps my might, can’t see before me;
Put out my hand to guard my way;
Can’t see it, “Damn!”; in this fray;
My mind taunts me; words from the past,
The truth to free, grace unsurpassed;
“Repent of sin, believe in Jesus;
Turn to Him, His work has freed us.”
I know the way, yet went it not;
Chose not to pray; eternally caught.

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