The Nature of Sin

Through a maze of twisted vile
hearts and bloated souls comes
squeaking through a small
tremor of rosy accolades praising
itself for dirty visions of
pretty, pretty, little things.

Thorny branches poke and
tear at wispy thoughts.
Dreams decline to open
restricting patterns of obscurity
to the dark unforgiven depths
of heavenly brilliance.

Lost and burning soul
silently screaming
helpless
with flames licking,
dancing among
the strings of the heart.

Brilliance stretches
the soft skin of reality
while numbly falls the dark cloak of sanity.
Obscuring relevance;
Beauty is declined;
Silence.

Echoes ring of forgotten melodies.
Knowledge creeps through fissures of lost hopes.
Dreams escape to vanity.
Intelligence welcomes the cold efficiency of life
while death hungers,
waiting.

Lost and anguished soul,
lonely among the many,
crying for elusive hope not wanted.
Wicked clouds obscure,
sinking sands confine
in the dark and empty self.

A semblance of broken thought
pervades the empty sallow mind.
Dimly blinds the spark
shattering brittle thorns.
Brilliance but briefly illuminates hope
while truth reaches,
longing.