The Man of Sin

What a tiresome task it is

To be a person of sin;

Rejected by the rest

Accepted by the people of the abyss.

Oh, would it not be a bliss

To relieve me of my amiss;

Though to my utter dismay

It is only an act of cruel betray...

Betray to a person manipulated

To suspect their feelings are to be hated.

Isn’t it truly the irony of fate?

A queer feeling lingering with taint

Yet as natural as for it to have no constraint.

I thought realizing would offer me inner peace,

One that I have hoped would mark my release;

Instead, I was offered a renewal to my dismay

That left me in inveterate mental astray.

Conflicts that span days

Drive my young mind to craze.

I hoped it would only be a phase;

However, it seems like an incessant maze.

As I gaze at the ocean of stars,

I hope for one to kiss my scars,

Such that my pain can be forgotten

Allowing for a new chapter to be gotten.

But who am I kidding?

Am I seriously bidding

On visions insanely forbidden?!

Then what do I do dear God?

Aren’t you supposed to be the one to cleanse my soul from its flawed facade?

As far as I have observed,

You have been reserved—

Unhinged by my fraud

Or maybe… Just maybe...

My unholy flaw

Is one unhealable by the act of God.

That is just hilarious!

Something outlawed by the almighty glorious

Yet very notorious for being victorious.