Seems

The world seems to fit on a spiral
Going downward toward the pits of abyss
Struggling to breathe from the pressure of resistance
As sin buries the soul in immovable pain.

The heart seems perched on a target
Waiting for the next time it will be bulls-eyed
Wondering why vulnerability is its weakness
As sorrow dulls the ever-lasting quest for love.

The mind seems like a light bulb
Searching for the next bright idea
Trying to understand every problem that is faced
As thoughts provoke the removal of sorrow and sin.

I seem as fragile as a windowpane
Finding happiness in nothing I do
Fearing that this pane’s crack will grow larger
As emotion is a façade with a painting of my dancing smile.