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Ocelot's Poetry and Songs

 My Fortress
 
It happened when I thought that I
had built an Iron Wall.
concrete and steel, so cold, so real
so deep, so wide, so tall.

A veritable fortress where
I thought that I could stay
Content within - so far from sin
and every disarray!

I'd spend the days alone inside
remembering how I'd won.
When Satan fled, in fear and dread,
that's when the pain'd begun.

I thought I'd beaten every evil
thing that came my way
And now, "Sweet peace," I'd found release!
But it didn't work that way.

I'd got so warm and cozy behind
all that I had built
that my own lies were my demise
and yet betrayed no guilt.

For in my haste to build my walls
I'd slipped one small detail.
I'd left no door, and my decor
of walls became my jail!

Then finally, in horror, I
discovered what I'd made.
I cried to him who took my sin
yet no reply was paid.

For when I shut sin out, within
I only had myself.
And solitude is worse then pain
when trapped inside life's wealth.
 
Kevin Metcalf
1997

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