To be unsaved

To be unsaved is to know you are a slave,
And to know the weight of every wrong choice you've ever made.

To be unsaved is to say words that sound so very true,
And to hear them ring hollow, knowing they help you not a whit.

To be unsaved is to hear others talk about a wonderful world,
And to wonder why yours is so empty and cold and silent.

To be unsaved is to know that death stalks you, that loss seeks you,
And to know that you have no defense, no shield, no sword to slay these beasts.

To be unsaved is to say, "I love you", to know it is a lie,
And to know she (he?) is lying back to you for the same reason: just to hear it said.

To be unsaved is to know pain without relief.
To be unsaved is to know that you are an instrument of entropy.
To be unsaved is to know that, in the dark of night, you might as well not exist.

To be unsaved is to see your end a hundred years away,
And to count each second, watching it, hoping it does not sneak closer when you aren't looking.

To be unsaved is to know that you are doomed.

To be unsaved is to hear His voice in the darkness
To see His light shine in the distance
To know His heart seeks you with its entirety
To ask...

To be saved is to know you have been unsaved,
And now are saved.