The gentle knock upon my door

The Chaplain drops by Checking my progress Multiple times Questioning my faith Asking continuously If there’s anything I need Anything at all He can do for me Do I want to talk Would I like to pray Have I had any visitors What about support system Are you sure you’re alright He says with a

Easter at the Vatican

Standing At the manmade altar Dressed in gold As if possessing A direct connection To the Lord Our God Men of sin Most sadistic Vile unconscionable Acts against the Innocent Professing to the Holy Father To be on the side Of God Rallying for Themselves In defiant Denial On this the Holiest of days A

Insanity’s Final Adieu

His was a miserable life; wandering the globe pretending to be lost, feigning insanity due to all sorts of abuse; self-inflicted, youthful demons victim, to any and all who showed the slightest inclination of interest. In truth, he knew exactly where he was going, what the cost would be to get there; needing only to

Faded scars

I feel for her. Sort of. Maybe not so much. I want to warn her. Sometimes. Never mind. Let her learn the hard way. Would do no good anyway. Earn her badge among the ranks. Ugly scars like the rest of us wear. Or rather wore, I should say. Mine are gone now. How about