Godless

On the steps of the porch
watching the clouds
while listening to the roar of traffic
behind the fence.
rubber, asphalt, and synthetics.
It's not anger.
It's not depression.
it's not stress.
It's the by-product of a restless conscience
that leaves me nerves in ruins.
It's the perpetual dives into the darkest,
and most unholy chambers of the human heart
that steals my breath in the night.
I have seen the worst that hell has to offer,
and even it won't welcome me.
I am this earth's poison,
a godless nomad on course for a young death.

4/14/08 2:52pm