5 March 2013
Fear consumed me as a boy, voices always came to my room, hiding beneath the covers, believing they would protect from being consumed.
They would always speak hate, towards things I new were true, to destroy my resolve, the only path they knew.
Even in God's house, they would continue to attack my mind, yet God would never let it consume me, he was always so kind.
As I grew old, the voices slowly began to fade, yet sin consumed me more, the worse was yet in store.
The more I forgot God, the deeper I would sink in the sand, thinking I could do it on my own, a foolish and prideful stand.
A terrible tragedy finally shook me to life, a bad decision that cut me like a knife.
Thrown to my knees, there was nothing more I could do, at the end of my rope, I could no longer cope.
A voice in desperation, a call out of the darkness for divine help, evil's final blow, about to be dealt.
I heard nothing, thinking I was lost, yet in the end I escaped, without a fatal cost.
All my times lost, failing no matter how hard I tried, humility pulled me from the depths, the day the nightmare died.
The Day The Nightmare Died • Opuss № I