List of Sins

It’s when I wake and try so hard
To see how I can know,
Why I should have a list of sins
That always seems to grow.

Morning’s pure and gold delight
I brave to face a day,
With shadows ever beckoning
Why won’t they go away?

Up comes the sun to warm my heart
I try with all my might,
My sins creep in, my misery,
Then soon there comes the night.

It’s when I think and try to see
How life it seems so sly,
To lay upon my fragile hopes
An unjust hidden lie.

That when I pray and try to say
Tomorrow’s truth will hold,
Yet by the time I turn around
Another sin’s grown bold.

What can there be for my lost soul
If I can never know?
Why I should have a list of sins
That forever seems to grow.

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Anguish

By the slain bodies, victims of my utter neglect, I look around thunderstruck and weep.

Over and over again, I slayed them with my pride, and lashed at them with the whips of my jealousy.

Like wounded, beaten slaves, they pleaded to give but love, and I glared with beet red eyes.

Love! …gah, the bitter stones of the cemetary await the remorseless throes of love.

And I, bound by ugly hate, coveted tender flesh until emotion became raw.

Fleeing, no heartstrings could tie my soul but the lecherous larvae within, my selfishness.

I tortured them with my greedy snares, snapping steel traps freezing unto the bone.

By their solemn weeping the gangrenous wounds filled my appetite until my loathing grew.

With the cold spaces of death, their coal black, lifeless eyes, I fell backwards,

Smote by the anguish of isolated millenniums to come.