Sunday Schooled
I will never be called to the river. I will never be washed clean. Sorry, Preacher Man. There is just no saving my soul. Some sins simply defy absolution. Some mistakes linger irreparably in their durable definitions. And some regrets rage and fester, like an undiagnosed cancer storming unchecked through the soft tissues of an untimely surrender. The wrongs I have committed far outweigh the rights; the karmic balance remains stubbornly shifted forever in favor against me. And I have neither justification, nor diligence, against what is ultimately coming due. There is no defending the indefensible position- therein lies only exhausting madness. There is no justifying the indiscreet indiscretions- therein lies only more lies. There is no forgiving the unforgivable- therein lies the undeniable tragedy of …
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