The Confession of Misplaced Grace.

Death by awareness.
My heart hurts with delight
I refuse to ask forgiveness
When I know that the caverns
of my head are disintegrating
With the joy of dancing in sin.
Because redemption feels
Delightful....only when i've
Been dirtied by the delights
That drive my soul to the devil.

In being torn apart,
and mindful of the consequences;
Absolution in deathly drunkeness
Is indulgently devious.
So perfect in it's imperfection.
I'll sacrifice myself to the darkness
Because the light has no place card
on its table for someone as lost as I.
I'll follow the piper because the
piety of the innocent is a distant dream
my subconscious soul
can no longer comprehend.
My beloved saviour,
I cannot fess up for my name
For which I have so dirtied up with doubt.
The questions you answered have left me
longing for the deeper infinite.
A path I shan't journey.
A bridge I cannot cross,
For my feet have splintered and split
walking on your testy trail.
I am not worthy of your light.
Not qualified for your absolution.

Duties of a Sentry

These are ten thousand heart beats,
Each one a life a piece and a sentry
Of pride in someone's eye.
Silence becomes these,
And in these a sly,
Shy moment sighs.
But then again
The badgering and bickering begins,
And we plunge into ten-thousand sins,
With a thousand more a piece.
And our mouths spew insufferable words,
Because our sins cannot cease.
We are the elite;
They preach at least.
But we are commoners,
And steady guardians of an
Insecure peace.

I believe

That is is all falsified.
That my conscience is the foundation of my choices,
Even if it has many voices,
Which do not tread with ease,
Over my overanalytical mind.
So you tell me one thing,
But I'll actively choose another,
Just to pull one over on you,
Get the ruse?
I knew you would.
Carry on.