The Prison Cells of Life

Dark and cold, dreary and grey

I have an image of a prison cell today.

It’s small and of stone, from ages past

Sometimes I stand there or lay there, my soul downcast.

How did I come to be here,

When I know I used to walk free?

I recall now giving in to resentment,

Holding the hand of un-forgiveness too long.

Till it weighed me down with bitterness,

Blinding me with hatred so I couldn’t see the dawn.

And instead of continuing my journey,

I walked into this road-side prison cell.

The longer I stay, the more shackled I can be,

To the chains of these evils that would destroy me.

But I remember days of freedom, I remember times of peace,

And I see as in a dream that I am capable of being free.

For the prison door stands wide open,

Its chains can be made weak.

I need only to take the hand of God,

In hope and faith, for love’s pure sake.

Then I can rise and leave that prison,

Walking out its open door,

Running into freedom’s light and love’s vision,

My life and joy restored.

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One response to “The Prison Cells of Life

  1. I have been blessed seeing you grow from childhood to womanhood with grace; now I am blessed to see you grow spiritually and in God’s grace. Keep all of it up!

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