Of darkest obsidian like sharp shards the guilts upon my soul.
Deeply cut the wounds I carry that now make me less than whole.
By choice and deed I know who it is that I have hurt and wronged.
Through consequence of choice I made, my torture has belonged.
A price I paid and yet payment can never recompense.
As soul is tattered in self loathing and I am bereft of all defence.
There is no way to make amends or make a penance for my deeds.
My life has no more meaning and my soul eternally yet bleeds.
I cannot ask forgiveness and of salvation there is none.
For all the things I chose in selfishness, will never be undone.
Maybe priest or God will absolve me by the offering of some chant.
But despise my heart and soul, to forgive myself I cant.
What can you do when you no longer believe your own lies?
