The I

I am hanging
half way
down the rope
and I myself
brought me here from infancy
God
I am
not alone
eroding into the barren soil

at this point
in life
I believe
this is not holy water
falling on my face from above
under constellations
renamed by my enemies
I lost
to mystery milestones and slave rites around them
pilgrims
we were close
but our ascent to life-transforming peace and harmony
both never found
failed

thus I am fading
as doubt and unbelief are burning
mark of the Beast into my skin

I recon second thoughts missed the point
as if nothing could take control of our destiny
God
Everything did
solid ground
Promised Land with a garden
are presumed dead since the beginning of the End