Tribulation
by Adam Ritchie

Lost, space becomes abstract
Time is all that fills this place
Lives fade away like seconds on the clock,
As my fears, manifest themselves into reality,
The net of fate ensnares my soul,
There is no place to run
My enemy sees all

The sun rise a is a cruel joke
And the clock laughs at my helplessness
I turn my face away
But all around me are the signs
No return innocence is lost
But purity was a lie to begin with

About the Author:
Adam Ritchie is 19 years old, lives in the United States, and his goals include becoming a studio artist and author. He's been studying esoteria for six years and art all his life. He can be reched at reached at iao_longes@yahoo.com.