This body is a shell,

Housing vision,

Filled with vigor,

And sometimes venom.

I am more than these decaying walls.

Though sagging skin may camouflage

What lies beneath.

Even the unsightly roads

Carved in brow and hand

Tell another story.

But one must be brave enough to look.

To stare.

To linger there.

And see that each path, though sometimes spurned,

Has been earned.

Forever engraved

Now part of the whole.

Come walk a mile,

Though my frail frame is unforgiving,

The living is full.

Adorned with joy,

Gathered from each new life.

Like collected raindrops that reveal colour

When warmed by the sun.

Abundant foresight gained

From mistakes that no longer cast shame,

But seen as granted opportunities

To begin again.

A quick tongue soothed

By wisdom’s taste.

Adventures refined by the hand of grace.

Love, overflowing from the outside, within,

Covers the sin that was once my snare.

I leave it there to never forget.

Not to regret,

Only to remind, a blind eye has been turned.

This body is a shell,

To be left aside

When I collide

With heaven


And no longer ridden

With earth’s curse,

The rehearsal completed

And death now defeated.


– L. L. S.


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