This Should Not Exist

Can't help but be horrified of sunsets
can't help but be despaired facing facets
of life that ought to have passed

barging in
through windows of my glasshouse,
a hurricane
tearing at these walls built by weary hands
Yet there we go, my past it calls
hammering on doors forgotten
and now its sound vibrates through these walls
crumbling them, sending them to the floor.

I stand amidst these
ruins
trying to repair my home
scared of flying to the moon alone.

God has no strength in me.

His efforts have failed to be effective at all,
for I am no receiver
not a strong-enough believer.

I've lost control, I've lost it all,
can't stand to see this sun setting,
for I am too weak
to shut out darkness from my past
and so my house shall fall.