by Gaven Terrell Godbolt


That is what I’ve known for a while now.
And along with that I have learned
yet another reward to be it’s companion….
The only love my heart knew
has left me for another.
My only means to make a living
were stripped of me.

And my only comfort now
was the soothing ease of alcoholic nectar.
Walking into the church for the moment
seemed the same
as every other arrival in the past.

Every sin I have confessed,
every secret that has spilled from my lips.
This church knew my very life.
But on this day there was a change.
A path that I have followed of
parallel routine was suddenly crossed
by this anonymous intervention.

As I sat down in my familiar seat for confession
I waited for the father to arrive
but no one showed up.

Still I waited.

And then there was a presence.

Yet not of my pastor.

My body began to tremble from cold.
But this was not the chill of
any atmospheric proportion.
I felt a force of unease
on the other side of that wall.
This unspeakable force
so appalling,
I became haunted by it.

I slowly pulled open the slotted door
to reveal who or what has replaced the pastor
I knew for many years ago. T

here was nothing to be seen.

The inside of the room was as hollow
as the space in
my heart.

And that horrid acknowledgment
only bestowed a deeper fear in my mind
towards this ill presence that I knew was there.
I uttered a whisper into the thickened silence.


The only response was the vibration of my own voice.

Then out of the stir of echos, surfaced a reply.
“You are here for confession
but instead you will receive teaching,”
spoke a voice in my pastors room.

This soul piercing tone left me paralyzed
for a moment;
then with struggle I spoke.
“I have questions in need of answers,” I said.
“Then question, and I shall answer,” it challenged me.
And with that invitation, I began.

“What is it to know pain?” I questioned.

“That was an under statement;
allow me to pierce deeper into the darkness
for the rightful replacement.
To be of an abundant acquaintance of unforgiving sorrow,
is to be one with torment and a spirit so hollow.”

I since the depth of experience in this answer.

A very ancient source of raw knowledge.
“What does it mean for the defenseless
heart to witness deceit?” I questioned.

“I shall fall further into the darkness,
for this question requires a more sinister release.
To know what it is like for the most sentimental organ
in the body to acknowledge despair,
is much similar to one feared of horror,
and on end stands their hair.”

“What grief could be more worst
than felt by the one who lost their first?” I questioned.

“To truly feel absence of once a united love,
is to fall subject to the immortal pain of the crying dove!”

“Why has life accused me to be doomed,
what cruel grudge towards me life has,
so gloom so rude?” I questioned

“My child it is I indeed that must be the first,
to inform you that life through your
eyes has not been the worst.
In the back of your mind must always be a keeper,
that in spite the depth of your sorrow,
another has already mourn deeper.
You have only an afflicted heart
of a mere wounded appearance,
but the disease of a defeated soul,
hope you shall never experience!”

In that instance of conclusion
the room became empty
as it was before.

And I,
finally released
from the bondage
which compelled me to remain motionless
for what seemed like an eternity.

There was nothing.

The mysterious will that
rendered me in stillness
was now only a dissolved memory.

The withered soul I was before
died in that church upon this day.

I was changed.

For the remainder of my life,
I knew no trial or tribulation
I would encounter would ever compare
to the torment of the truly fallen.

I was surely instructed of that.