On bended knee,
I come to You, Lord,
with my head resting on Your door,
I surrender myself,
inside this empty cell.
There is no refuge in the visitor’s corner,
sitting in this glass room,
wearing this orange suit,
holding a receiver to my ear,
as if the sound of another’s voice
will bring me solace,
but there is no peace –
I am missing life outside;
I go seek the life inside.
I have been here before,
too many times to count;
the marked scratches say it all,
but now, in my final hour,
I seek redemption,
for my sins and crimes.
I stay awake,
pacing back and forth,
listening to the eco of my thoughts
between empty walls;
everything is cold and lifeless –
his ghost still haunts me,
toying around with my tarnished morality.
I had no father,
that taught me right from wrong;
that would keep waiting for me,
all night long.
My heart cried from a deep loneliness;
I found no comfort,
in the dried up tears on my pillow;
there was no joy in bare windows –
I was stuck,
So, I shattered the glass;
I broke all but one of Your commandments;
I drowned innocent minds in red rivers,
and watched my hands bleed from sorrow,
while my tongue wailed for mercy –
I found none,
I kept on raging,
causing mayhem on every block I walked,
losing myself in a complex of homes –
each unit more deprived than the next.
I treaded lonely streets,
watched everyone retreat from fear;
Menace was my name,
playing the Ace of Spades to my heart’s content was the game.
I remember it all;
I live with these memories,
all day long;
oh, Lord, I regret ever stepping out,
I wasted my youth on cheap currency,
and greedy souls –
what did I know?
At fifteen, I lived for the thrill,
and laughed at every rule I broke,
hoping it would fill the emptiness,
I sold my possessions,
for barely any return,
sat up contemplating afterwards,
when I realized –
the approval of strangers mattered more,
than my own happiness.
Yes, I realized all that,
but too late,
when the clock struck midnight,
I fled, and the hollowness grew;
I missed out on the comfort of home;
I longed for a complete family.
So restless I was in my desire,
retracing old memories,
looking for clues,
for an escape from this ache,
I changed the layout of my room,
rearranged everything in my sight,
looking for order,
a sense of normality,
of finally fitting in.
I walked between shields,
but I was a child still,
yearning for a good night kiss.
My voice projected across all,
yet, the lost boy inside,
still searched for the missing piece.
So, I come to You, Lord,
on bended knee, alone,
looking through to the other side,
of this empty cell.
I do not find myself weak –
there is no need for sympathy,
nor am I a fool –
I do not seek any pity.
This is my final plea:
I found myself too late,
tomorrow my jury will decide,
but, You, alone, will be my last judge.
I seek repentance,
in my final moments,