S.O.S.

I’m on house arrest,

strapped to this planet

with no way off.

Get me out of this mess.

Did I choose to come here?

The assignment I’ve been given

is covered in blood,

and I can’t tell what’s real anymore—

the lines are blurred,

the noise is cursed.

Subtle whispers of malice

transmit through the air

so that I can’t hear

the voice of God clearly.

His message is written on my heart,

but my heart’s gone dark.

Love on this planet

is asystole stark.

Nobody knows

what it means to be clean;

pure intentions don’t translate

into actions that speak

of the one true living King

that brings everything peace.

This world is poisoned.

If only a spark of hope

could light a fire to seal

every gaping hole

in the atmosphere

that's portaling fear,

polluting the hearts and minds

of everyone here.

This is war—

A war for your soul,

and you don't even know it.

These souls are all haunted

by the ones who preach truth

but engage in abuse.

Truth, covered in lies,

deceptions arise,

consuming consumers

till the resources run dry.

The only Source keeping us alive

is buried behind

chemical trails in the sky,

blocking the rays

that feed us life,

poisoning us till we die.

Is this what prison feels like?

I’m outside, but I can’t feel the light.

I heard a whisper:

the light is inside—

if I close my eyes

I will find it,

but I only see night.

My heart, once beaming,

has lost sight

of what love truly feels like.

I'm on house arrest.

Earth is a mess.

Calling all angels for help—

S.O.S.

Send me a spark,

even if small,

so I can remember

what I came here for.