Hell is the test of faith
When your heart has nothing to hold onto
But itself
And humanity seems very far away,
Even when
It is physically near.
Faith’s conception
Occurs in dark places
Amidst fear and in prison
Growing larger like the light
At the end of a tunnel.
Hell is the ticket to freedom
Where the war is permanently over
Because of the blood, sweat and the tears
You cried
When there was nothing left to lose.
Faith’s childhood
Is not spent in protected gardens
Or lying on some tropical beach
But rather plods through war torn streets
And sings songs in minds that have lost
The threads of reality
In the present moment.
Faith is an invisible fact
That many refuse to acknowledge
Even though the sun does rise each dawn.
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