Spiritual Illness

Black shadows instead of transparent shadows

Double vision instead of a focused vision

Rot smell instead of a soothing smell

A stone between the middle of my cranium 

A God and a Devil on both shoulders; starring 

Thy ears hearing death instead of logic

My faith is now known to be as death

Oops!

What’s this doctor? I don’t have a cure? but wait! aren’t you a doctor? Science doesn’t believe in a God, so please cure me!

I’m spiritually dying? 

Double glances at heaven and hell; I begin to see

I beg you not to blow on that spiritual trumpet! I still need time to repent Lord

Take my Illness away… I’d like to have a new soul without dying

God: Be free my Daughter

Me: Free from you? 

Mind: Doubts to death

˜

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