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

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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

The Anatomy of Love

Real love isn’t found in kisses—it’s found in the darkness you’re willing to accept.

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Love comes not,

when you kiss her smiling lips and turn your feelings South,

and find them sweet and moist, past that formidable pout

And love comes not,

when you hold her hand and choose to kiss her bitter mouth,

and find it sour and so parched, her sadness, an eternal drought

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Love comes not,

when you lie down together, the naked you with the naked her,

her warmth entwined with yours, and the feelings that you stir

And love comes not,

when you hold your ego in check and laugh and cry with her,

the silly mistakes you commit, and the boundaries that you blur

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Instead, love comes,

when you walk in her shoes and choose to fight her fight,

finding all that is absolutely dark, and finding all that is light

And love comes,

when you feel the warmth with joy and own the day with pride,

when you walk the path to darkness, you trace the origin of night

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Love really comes,

when you sneak into her soul, and see the real wreckage,

finding all that is rotten, the ugly weight of her baggage

And love really comes,

When you search for her broken heart and find the only passage,

owning all that is rotten, sharing the burden of her baggage

Me and the Devil, Walking Side by Side

hannibalmanstag

What if the Devil was never evil—only loyal, misunderstood, and condemned?

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Me and the devil,

walking side by side

Me, the eager follower,

and him, the patient guide

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“Disobedience and arrogance?

Why, when you were His chosen?

Deviance and decadence?

Why, when you showed no cozen?”

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“Disobedience?”

The lightning flashed,

and in his eyes, a dark anger lashed

“It was always my plan,

not bowing to you, a helpless man”

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“Arrogance?”

The thunder boomed,

he whispered deeply and presumed

“It was always the obscurity,

my purity and your impurity”

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“Deviance?”

The wind screamed,

and his eyes darkly gleamed

“It was my sincere intention, and the one true path,

inviting His immense fury, His infinite wrath”

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“Decadence?”

The sky wept and went suddenly dark,

his smile grew wider, and there was a spark

“It was always the intention,

my love and my obsession”

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I understand all,

I comprehend all,

The agony of love,

misunderstood and rejected

The burden of loyalty,

a soul, broken and dejected