soul lost

soul lost

I was a captive to cowardliness,
terrified to tell Ryan where to turn
as he reached out, crawling through emptiness
through the dark
searching,
smoking,
sexing her.

He dropped deeper as it fast approached us.
talks of les trains, I taught about nothing
taught useless words watching wheels convalesce
round and round in his head never halting

Summer’s sun, signaling like crossing lights
the smells of growing grains gives to the air
a sense of adventure into the nights
for which no one can prepare.

He fastened his helmet for four-wheeled ride
through the kernels deafening pop ping pop
he couldn’t hear the mainline, and he did
not hear the rail before he had time to stop.

Underneath the boxcar his soul was snatched
before he ever knew of salvation
Ryan’s bourn burdens hung on tight, attached
to his soul, never with Him relation.

Fear sold me to Guilt I thought I deserved
crippled, whipped, and beaten. Tears for the lost
streamed down my cheeks for his soul not conserved
Il est mort and I have less