Harsh judgement for harsh acts performed as I am ill
Keeps the gate locked on unpardoned parts of my soul.
The prison I’ve created I deem adequate
Yet the enemies of me have cause to debate
That no gnashing sufficient is worth my parole.
That I’ve been such an asshole does my spirit kill.
My remorse is reality as is my joy
That the pain is made bearable in my belief
That I need to be punished more than I am now.
Is my healthy survival in trouble somehow?
From my own misconceptions I need some relief
Otherwise I’ll continue to hurt and annoy.
The world is just a word. It is I who exist
And I am capable of experiencing
Absolute truth, but I shall never attain it.
I am guilty of all the sins that I commit.
There is no way of reconciling this damned thing
Yet I must learn to deal with the thoughts that persist.
In the mind there’s a prism that translates pure light
Into many distortions. My illness only
Sees the trees – not the forest. I glean redemption
Through clearing of my faculties. As this is done
It eventually helps me to better see
Somewhere in all the darkness a future that’s bright.