Black, Rusted Anchor

Cold splashes of white-crested water
sting exposed flesh
As you sink deeper and further from
proclaiming the truth.

Guilt is an anchor, black, rusted,
Weighing you down
Under the evil sea of torment,
Unable to breath.

Pressure on the ocean floor,
Suffocates your squeezed heart.

In a final exhale of breath,
In the last second of life,
The truth is told.
The weight of the anchor
is broken,
You surge for the surface
Gasping in the air of freedom –
Free from guilt.