#moralconflict
every day, he looked out the window,
his inhibitions toppling over like dominos;
he gawked at the blackbirds, all the same:
he could not tell a friend from a foe.
he never thought he’d go so far -
as to slay ‘the raven’ with a crooked crowbar;
his conscience dripped with sins, and rose -
a thorny heap of fallacies, charred.
he blamed the world for all he was;
convinced in his soul that he had a good cause:
it wasn’t enough to redeem his faux pas, so -
he bore the tag of an ill-fated outlaw.
of all the names, by which he was called,
who knew - one day - he’d cease to show up?
a child dead of his innocence, who
never learned how to -
as they say -
‘grow up!’
Jan 3, 2025
Jan 3, 2025 at 9:25 AM UTC
Cut down with a butcher’s smile —
Meet me at the corner of personal
Regret, with everything I have at stake
Hand me a full plate for Judgment Day
Heavy with excuses, polished by prayer —
Where man learns to survive, feeding
Themselves on their own lies
A butcher’s knife cold, a warm smile;
For the cleanest hands belong to the
_Dirtiest deeds._
Dec 14, 2025
Dec 14, 2025 at 3:02 PM UTC