Why Is This Happening To Me?

Why is this happening (why am I here)?
Because long ago (but really never)
In a land far away (but really not)
I made a choice (or thought I did)
To fall asleep.

In my dream (while I fitfully slept)

I fell out of heaven (with a third of the angels)
And landed here (and there and there)
And lived my lives (if this is living)
Unto each death.

And so I wove and spun (my dream)
To cast my guilt (and shame of falling)
Onto this world (it holds it well)
And hid my mind (as best I could)
In fear. 

And hurt myself (in creative ways)
To help appease (before I’m caught)
The Father’s wrath (He must be coming!)
With hopes He’ll love (and not destroy) 
My sinful soul.  

But now I’m waking (up and at ’em)
To begin to see (with sleep filled eyes)
My self-betrayal (it’s all my doing)
Stemming from my mistake (no judgment here)
Of choosing sleep.

So what is happening (isn’t happening)
I made happen (I made myself)
From Adam’s rib (and Eve’s creation)
I never came (I am not here)
I am at home. 

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