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.


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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