Bloody Shards

I start every morning with failure,

Overwhelmed by the fear that’s in me.

A wretchedly worthless incompetent moron,

Is the very first person I see.

Bound by strong ropes of my making,

Disabled by my fearful bands,

Unable to take even one little step,

I watch moments fall from my hands.

Terror’s a breeder of hatred,

And the source of the fear gets the hate.

With nothing to blame for my failure and shame,

Hating myself is my fate.

Hell’s in the empty hearted,

In this fear that we cannot face.

Locked in dark lands by our very own hands,

We are trapped in this hate filled place.

By the afternoon I am collapsing,

From the wounds that I give to myself.

Tearing my being with fingers like razors,

I should be screaming and begging for help.

But the weak are the ones abandoned,

And this lie I will firmly believe.

Dragging myself to my feet from the ground,

I will look for my own way to leave.

But the darkness is never revealing,

And one without light cannot see.

Wand’ring around with my blood on the ground,

I can never truly be free.

Hell’s in the empty hearted,

In this darkness we call our light.

Strong in our pride in ourselves who have lied,

We subside without even a fight.

When the evening comes I am broken,

By my hatred that cannot know end,

By my hatred of failure, my failure by hating,

By my knee that I never will bend.

I snatch up my broken pieces,

I scream at the fool that I see.

If only he could be strong then I could do no wrong,

And a much better man I would be.

But the fool is the one who is screaming,

As he bashes the shards with his hands.

He tries to be strong knowing he is not wrong,

As his blood’s soaking into the sand.

Hell’s in the empty hearted,

In this pride that we say is our strength.

We are beating ourselves as we make our own hells,

In this darkness where all mankind sank.

At a minute ‘til midnight I’m nothing,

But sharp broken shards drenched in blood.

My mockery of living all done with,

Though my hate is a still rising flood.

I’m hoping that no one will know me,

To be left with my pride is my prayer.

Surrounded by darkness it’s likely,

But there’s one man who still sees me here.

He walks on the bloody waters,

He gathers the pieces below,

He makes a mosaic of unearthly beauty,

That to Heaven and Earth he will show.

He comes for the empty hearted,

He loves those with nothing to give.

He is the only true light and the end of our night,

For by his blood our broken shards live.

(This is an old poem, written back in 2004. I’m posting it here because it is still one of my favorite poems that I have ever written, and I think it may help some people out there who are going through the same places I went through.)


One thought on “Bloody Shards

  1. Pingback: My Favorite Things | What Has Jesus Done?

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