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Testimony Like A Bat Out Of Hell
Despite the constant presence of the flames
that burn as hot as any new star's core,
no light breaks through the clotted darkness here.
The eager fires scorch a relenteless sear
upon the feeling flesh, with no relief.
This is eternity: not less, but more
awaits. I scream a lot, mourning the loss
of how I might live now, but for my sneer
of cold contempt toward the true Gospel's claims.
I am the maker of my own damnation.
No devil led me to refuse belief.
My pride told me that my sort of salvation
had many versions for its presentation---
not just some carpenter slain on a cross.
Starward
