Encompassing Light

Death crawls into me,

sinking its teeth into my flesh,

ripping apart that which was never whole.

Sin sneaks in after,

slowly burns the edges of the wounds,

burns away the beating heart’s innocence.

One day.

Just one day.

Even less.  One moment.

Was all it took to destroy the possibility.

What was possible?

What wasn’t possible?

Oh, those burning wounds!

That pain, which brings the death in me such pleasure.

The death smells of rot.

Death hates the light.

Death likes the dark.

[for death is made manifest only in the dark]

Death talks to me.

Death loves me.

I am death.

One more light than I exists.

I hate him.

Really.

He is light,

and his light causes me to vanish.

I spiral downwards.

But here it is.

In the depths I have found it.

A hole.  A crevice.

 

Barely large enough for a needle to penetrate.

Irrelevant.

It is there.

[unoccupied, so I move in]

The temperature rises threateningly,

hinting light.

But it never reaches.

So I live.

I am great, unconquerable.

Untouchable.

[light walks in]

So confused.

I am not light, I am death!

And I will prove it.

But the light is different.

The fire from the light does not burn.

It turns my wounds into scars.

No! I will break them open.

The light will not diminish me.

I am death.

I am light. 

[how did this happen?]

I like it. It’s warm. 

I am death.

Redeemed.

My lips pour forth praise.

I am death raised to life.

Sin purified and made new.

Death creeps in me,

but the one in me is greater than death.