that is my life, to rectify the sin
constraining howls within my soul, confess
the blackness haunting me from depths within.
Would that the soul who huddles from the ghost
of my misdeeds could grasp the peace I’ve lost,
could find a haven, knowing countless hosts
of demons foist repayment of all cost.
For justice through a system made by man
is travesty compared to that by guilt
repaid. And bitter might-have-beens will pan
society’s responses ’til they wilt.
So lock the doors, confine this worthless soul
for even full release won’t make me whole.
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| Image Copyright : butus |
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