Stained Glass

Cough me up;

You wouldn't be the first.

Choking on the words I've spoken,

the draining requirements leave you parched,

drowning in a thirst that is seemingly unquenchable.

***

I'm doubtful of what I can say;

as I pray the words I've said would be suffice,

leaving behind remnants of a lacking faith to the dead, spiritually.

***

Have I truly made a contribution to the one hanging by a thread?

Is it him, or I am the one who might be...?

Can he truly see you through the many stains on the glass?

Maybe it's causing deeper contusions to the massive confusion laced within his mind.

I could be delusional.

***

I'm not sure I really believe me.

Can I expect another to see beyond my misrepresentations...

...the heavenly occupation I've undertaken?

I'm lost in the rhyming ability to persuade the beat of his heart.

I pray he can find You through the stained glass.

Yes, that is my only prayer.