It’s like church. Turning a blank page into loudly singing pews. Taking any inner darkness and breathing out the fumes. This is my church and my life is my muse.  

Sing down the rain and build up the choir. Let all of the ruin wash away with my fire. Burn out and fade, crumble into dust, this is my church and this god doesn’t have time for either one of us. 

It has been woven into hymns and built loosely on rhymes. This is my bible and it’s being religiously read line by line. 

Take any story how you will, turn the pages that make you wish ill. But the gospel is written so it cannot be changed, only lessons on losses can be gained. 

These pages are my church. I worship my pen like it is the mighty universe. These verses are my bible. Their eyes burn reading page after page searching for their revival. 


11 thoughts on “Revival.

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