The knife remembers what the hand forgot. The debt outlives the man who owed it. The road keeps going past the place you stopped.
You can burn the ledger, salt the field, walk out past the last streetlight and still hear the door you closed behind you.
Only God forgives. Not the mirror. Not the dark. Not the silence you paid for.
He doesn’t ask what you did. He asks what you carry. And when you finally set it down, He doesn’t say you’re free.
He says, I know.
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Author:
ROSHI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 25th, 2026 12:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: maydanae, sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
Wow, even just the first line hit like a brick. That brick turned to a wall the more I read. Now a favorite, thank you!
Thank you so much!
Lovely words with deep meaning. Not a religious man but this one speaks its meaning well. Loved it a fave
Thank you!!
You are very welcome William
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