Sinner With A Past

Every priest has a past and every sinner has a future,

When I was held at gun point life was the shooter,

When death came it felt like the finest whiskey but way smoother,

Life was a drug and I was not a user,

My fear of being known, must be seen,

I was an artist but you weren’t rather keen,

It was a democracy but I was the queen,

Everything so scripted, I could swear I have heard the words “lights, camera, action, SCENE”

Have become ever so fluent in silence,

I was told to survive in a storm, with no apparent guidance,

Everywhere I went it was a mere void, can’t find the alleged balance,

Why does my soul miss my body? Is it the distance?,

An angel set my world on fire,

I was thirsty but the world couldn’t be drier,

Cried tears of blood, even tough I am not much of a crier,

Worked my whole life, it was time to retire