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Will this be my last words, or my first of many?  
My sense of reasoning has blinded me.  
Numbed my tongue…covered it with letters and sentences.  
Yet sense is nowhere to be found.  
I prayed for answers to impossible questions.  
Laid my doubts down like rags and towels under the summer sun.  
Hoping to catch a glimpse of sanity yet still like always I was a little too late.  
My head is still racing against time.  
My flesh is still sensitive to love  
And my legs and feet are still rushing towards better days as my body rests up against gravity and the wind.  
It may just be the death of me one day…  
Eyes of uncertainty sizing me up  
Mute tongues are now reciting cryptic codes into the calm winds.  
Is this the time when I should be weary of my surroundings?  
My words of wisdom are not comforting me now.  
These words that I am typing has no meaning to you but they weigh heavy upon this 29-year-old heart of mine.  
These tears that are invisible to the naked eyes are flowing just as freely as the waters that are flowing down from the Bahamas into the Atlantic Ocean.  
Beyond these rambling words I am still looking and searching for the Lord  
His alter his cloak, his hand, his feet, his voice, and his sound of peace  
Peace…that is all I seek  
I do not need the extra gifts; just one single gift of peace will save me from the rivers of death and destruction that is lying beyond my smile.    
Can you hear my soul drowning?  
It is screaming Help!  
LORD HELP ME!!!  
SAVE ME!        
The darkness is taunting it  
Like a broken record all it hears back are its own words.  
A never-ending cycle of words that never changes, always screaming, relentlessly trying to break it.  
However as long as it can remember that no weapon that is formed against it shall prosper it shall one day see the sunrise  
The warmth will one day turn the coldness into warmth and reveal the true pigmentation of its bare skin.    
I am of many lost souls, yet still like a nomad I continue to roam these lands looking for a place to call my own.  
I will continue to collect, and change, like the hermit I will switch out my shell.  
I will not give up…  
I am not just a shell.