Vision In The Dark by Jeff Callaway


VISION IN THE DARK

by Jeff Callaway
Texas Outlaw Poet

I was born with a wound,
not one you could stitch,
but a soul-torn-open,
dark pit kind of glitch.

Fifteen, and I slit a deal in blood—
Satan’s signature in my teenage flood.
He gave me what I asked for...
but never what I needed.

Fed me pleasures
'til my conscience receded.
Prayers turned to pacts,
altars to acts,
high school shadows,
black candles,
cold facts.

Studied every path:
Luciferian, left-hand, light-bender,
but none could mend the pain
or make the void surrender.

Drugs, sex, violence—my trinity.
Slept with so many souls’ infinity.
Rituals in secret became my liturgy.

Prison fights, street rites,
everything unholy
yet I craved something holy—
I just didn’t know me.

Forty-four and my chest cracked open.
Heart attack.
Then a lung collapsed like an omen.

Back to the blade,
back to the blood,
calling dark names
while drowning in the flood.

And then...

One night,
when the silence was a scream,
and the rope in the closet
almost became my dream,
I cursed God.
Louder than thunder.

Wanted to end it all.
To sink asunder.
Eyes blinded.
But not by pain.
By light.

A woman in white—
no shadow, just grace.
She stood in the dark
like she owned the place.

Showed me every sin.
Every bed.
Every lie.
Every needle.
Every dead-eyed high.

Said, He died for you.
Then turned, and there—

Jesus.

Right there.
Not in a painting.
Not in a prayer.
But breathing, bleeding,
with love in His stare.

He said:
"You are forgiven."
And it wasn’t a phrase.
It was fire in my veins.

“But don’t ever get so desperate again
that you flirt with death thinking it's your friend.”

Next day, priest prayed—
and I said the words.
Every demon screamed,
then vanished unheard.
Gone.

That was my exorcism.
That was my Confirmation.
That was grace invading my prison.

Now I’m walking a path
not of perfection—
but direction.
Not preaching.
Just testifying correction.

Mary came to me when the darkness choked.
Jesus reached in, and the curse broke.
And I’ve been different ever since.

Not perfect, but present.
Not holy, but healed.
Not chained to my past
but finally revealed.

I don’t care if you scoff.
I’ve seen demons peel paint off the walls.
I’ve watched spirits crawl.
But I've also seen the Queen of Heaven all
like dawn into my nightfall.

So I spit these bars like psalms,
mix Gospel with grit,
redemption with rhythm,
confession with spit.

You don’t gotta believe me—
I ain’t askin' for fans.
But I’ll never again
put my soul into the devil's hands.

I met Christ.
I met Him.
And He ain’t just a name.

He’s the flame that burned the devil out my veins.

He took the nails, the thorns, the scourge, the chains—
bled holy blood through human pains.
Not just to save, but to break our stains,
to shatter the cycle, rewire the brains,
To reveal the love of Our Father
It has never changed.


~ Jeff Callaway 

TEXAS OUTLAW POET 

© 2025 Texas Outlaw Press



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