"advocatus" poems
How can you
blame me when
you made
me this way.
You gave me
free will, and knew
what I would do.
You predestined me
to lose.
I didn't choose
these terrible
wings of destiny;
you did it for me.
I wanted to be
Michael or Gabriel instead
of Lucifer.
I know there needed
to be a war,
and an enemy,
but why me?
I despise this
black soul.
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 6:38 AM UTC
The Cynic in me buries the optimist and the pessimist side by side, leaving the realist rotting on top.
What a dog I've become.
A hound to howl against hope; an advocatus diaboli for nil and all, but that's what I've become... that's what I am.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 4:24 AM UTC