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Pathetic Hex

I have much to accomplish and
Many words to speak and I have
Emotions to feel but I can't...
I don't know how anymore
And all the while my mind fights
To guide my heart but
My heart does not comply
It only scurries about from one numb
Sensation to the next.
Weary eyed I feel as though
I have died
But no, I'm still alive
Still breathing
Heart still beating
Still aching for feeling
But what am I to do?
According to the grand book of Christ,
I am but a meager spec
On the spectrum of life
Battling the strife
Of the everyday
Never knowing which
Way to travel
Watching my self unravel
Have I lost touch with who I am?
Or have I completely dissipated into a hollow shell with nothing left to do but sell
My soul to a being more sinister than the Devil himself?
So I leave my body to wander through options and gather an anti-Christian concoction of
Doubt and rationality, questioning whether reality is truly dictated by a galactic spirit,
And I can hear it-- the voice in my head screaming out to detach from my oppressive Lord
I hoard all of the Satanic paraphernalia I can and 
Irony strikes the anvil of my core as I realize that the Satanic Bible preaches
Individuality and self-fulfillment while the Bible breeds conformity,
Which in turn breeds mediocrity.
What a damn comedy it is to know that Lucifer is more morally upright than the man of Light.
How else can I fill this hole
Of neutrality that plagues me
Except accept the notion that only I can break the cycle of the void?
From now on, I vow to avoid all prophetic text because of the overall
Pathetic hex that it casts onto the freedom of the mind.
My thoughts are my own and through abandoning religion,
I feel at home in my own skin

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