I’m so heavy, too heavy, still dragged on the floor.
My thoughts wriggling, sickening in my mind,
That I call the rotting corpse – decayed and rusted.
Every single cell, more disgusting than the next.
I want to wash away these sins, scrub myself clean.
Hot water? Holy water? I don’t feel the burn anymore.
Like a dead corpse, laying around naked and torn.
What choices can I make while lying dead on the floor?
Forgotten and old, my coffin already caving in on my soul…
Worms, sickening old worms, trying to collapse me for what I told,
But my Goliath was stronger and more righteous that others foretold,
As I lack David and the God that helped him turn the tides of war.
Corinthians said that bad company corrupts good souls,
Yet how can you know a good soul when you wounded yourself,
Beyond the understanding of life and death.
I shall forgive and forget, like Matthew once told,
Maybe then I shall grant rest for my rotting soul?
Repentance and penance – the pillars that shall hold me now.
Without faith, without God, it’s just me and my thought clouds.
Maybe a prayer? To those that shall listen,
Being right – is not easily forgiven.