To the peace shattering thunder
of a midnight April storm I awoke
With hail stones pelting stained glass murals
of some forgotten saint
in a lone abandoned church slowly rotting
on a grass and thistle overgrown hill
somewhere in the desolate sandhills
of my Nebraska where I had
faithfully wandered far thru
every reality betraying day
and every night with insomniac dreams
of sleep as I come close
to the end of my death fearing life.
Every sacred breath I take-
every toe blistering step I take
brings me close to the
yearned freedom of my restless soul
from this prison of impure flesh.
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