What price faith

Something written after my first experience of being dead.

What Price Faith?

I wake, the world rushes in like a bitter winter tide upon the granite shoals.

In the face of cold reality, I am comforted, for the essence of divinity lingers within the confines of my soul.

Life, always demanding more, of what I fear I have no more left to give.

I charge into the future, buoyed by my faith, the irony is the knowing that I had to die to trust that I should live.