The Eternal Battle between Sin and Guilt

The old man pulled down my head

and whispered….

Listen, my son, and listen carefully,

for this is what it’s all about

And this is what you cannot,

and what you will never live without

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Sin is always hungry, an unstoppable parasite,

which feeds upon me, you, and all life

And guilt is the fire that cleanses the sin,

and cuts the darkness with a sharp knife

_______________________________________

Sin is the seed, sprayed forth from the loins,

of a terrible legion led by the angel Azazel

And guilt is the solace born in the heart,

and flowing from the eyes of the kind angel, Gabriel

_______________________________________

The struggle between the bright day,

and the all-encompassing dark night

And the war between sin and guilt,

is forever ongoing, the wrong, and the right

_______________________________________

This war is the bloodiest of all wars,

this scuffle is the deadliest of all scuffles

If the sin wins the game, all is lost,

but if guilt wins the cards, the life reshuffles

God, Death, and the Gift of a Heart!

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Confession of a Rotten Soul (Previously, So dark is my soul)

dark-soul-3-artwork

Not redemption. Not forgiveness. Only brutal self-awareness.

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark,

that angels borrow ink to write down my sins

Light shies away, avoiding all corruption,

while virtue stays silent, very rarely it wins

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark,

that I can hear my guilt, singing cold lullabies

Pushing me off precipices to a frozen end,

my regret laughs with coldness in its eyes

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark,

that I can hear my sins whispering their madness

Smothering my conscience to a suffocating end,

my remorse weeps bitterly in utter sadness

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark,

that I can hear my own fears, and their banshee screams

Choking my resolve to a pitifully miserable end,

the nightmares rule the night instead of the dreams

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark;

my goodness was a tactic to avoid eternal damnation

The cruel demons of judgment smiled with glee,

seeing my kindness as a path to eternal salvation

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark;

love was just a great delusion of pure grandeur

Humility was a disguise to hide the cold arrogance,

and compassion — a weakness, and selfish pleasure

_________________________

So dark is my soul — it is so damn dark;

I worry what will become of it in the end

Its darkness cannot be remedied,

and its rotten nature, no one can mend

God, the Grand Cupid

God looked down at two shattered souls drowning in separate sorrows and decided to play Cupid - because sometimes the cure for one broken heart is another.

A dual-narrative poem that follows two devastated individuals - a woman carrying a vault of sorrow and a man wandering the dark path of regret - until divine intervention brings them together in a transformative moment.


There she is, looking so young yet so old,

with a spirit, which was once so reckless and bold

There is still beauty, but only a shadow remains,

her strength survives, too, but is bound by chains


Trace within her soul, the dried pathways of salt,

she has been saving so many sorrows in her vault

Map each contour, map each line on her cheeks,

go ahead and ask her, what is it that she really seeks?


Perhaps, she hopes for bliss and a better future?

as her present is pus leaking from an open suture

Perhaps, she hopes for happy days to come,

as her past belongs to regret, all dark and glum


Look deep into her eyes, rivers of pain, black and grey,

they are silent, the foam of desire, subdued each day

They keep flowing over their bitter beds of loss,

marked by boulders of guilt, covered in rotten moss


There he is, tired and walking a lonesome path,

the rage has left his spirit, and absent is his wrath

He walks behind regret, while pain closely follows,

he is a lost soul, wandering in the grey hollows


The harsh, cold wind mourns the dead pigeons,

there is no salvation, no gods, and no religions

He is oblivious to all and is ignored by all,

his legacy is a broken ego; respect is his last call


He is a volcano gone dead, to all who care to see,

his soul is a vast desert, devoid of blessing, yet free

There is no fire, only ice in his marble heart,

while he eternally waits for the rains to start


Shattered into a million shards, dreams he once had,

he has lost forever, his character, his good, and his bad

To him, happiness and joy are all illusions and smoke,

to him, ecstasy and calm are nothing more than a joke


Time and patience play the sweet harp of change,

God looks down at the two souls, lost and so strange,

He feels the void in their souls, sees their dreams all furled,

with a kind and worried frown and his fingers all curled


‘Let there be light in their miserable and dark life,

let the angels play their magic, their merry fife

I won’t let their dreams die, be extinguished like this,

let their suffering finally end, let them get some bliss’


Boom! There is a great thunder up in the lofty skies,

across a chaotic throng they stand, amidst shouts and cries

There is a sudden flash of light, and they see where they stand,

they run towards each other, and he grabs her waiting hand


His loss kisses her loss and tastes empathy so deep,

they make a golden promise, forever to nurture and keep

Her grief caresses his grief and turns to sheer pleasure,

to love and to cherish, becomes their eternal treasure