Last breath

How many last breaths does it take getting down too, before some sort of clarity is reached?

How many mistakes have to be repeated until I learn the lesson being teached?

How many second chances can be reasonably expected in favors to GOD being desperately asked?

How many tears will I actually be able to shed, when I realize a current breath might be my last?

 

When will I stop looking for the proper hole to lay down in ,in beautiful misery to find my oblivion a little faster?

When will I stop cursing the powers that be for callously interrupting my perfect portrayal of a human disaster?

When will I get tired of falling flat on my face to counter the vertigo pulling me into the abyss of my disease?

When will I realize it's easier to step back from that abyss if instead I slowly rise up from bended knees?

 

Why did it take teetering on an edge at a bitter end as the last man standing to seek GOD"S spiritual dimension?

Why did all those last breaths not segue into last gasps if not for his divine intervention?

Why will it take total surrender to find strength in the confession that I was always living so horribly wrong?

Why did it take an almost last breath to be able to hear and face the music of my reality hiding between the minor notes of deaths song?

 

So , what will I find right now when I open my eyes no longer on an edge exhaling away the vestiges of self- deception?

What will I find myself seeing when I look into my own eyes in the mirror of untainted self- reflection?

What kind of stand will I take as the world finally stops spinning in a downward spiral?

What kind of truth can I expect to find blooming in the wreckage of my pasts tear drenched wasteland of denial?

 

All I can do is whatever it takes, humbling myself and giving it all I got,

All I have to do is catch my breath and sit down in the seat this sobriety and my surrender has already bought.

All that I can be begins now as I back away from the shadows at the edge of the valley of my almost death after death after death.

Accepting that all I might be on my worst sober day will be much more than I ever was at the instant of my best last breath.