Temperment for Thought

Securely I am cradled in my lust filled with thoughts of sin. Thoughts that can barley suffice my cravings…Then again how can I have a craving when my mind is so forlorn to the big picture?

I am inside the glass, not alone. Yet people think I do not realize I’m so jailed.
“Jailed,” what an abused term. Its melancholy song brings pricks to the arms. I’m not jailed in with the world’s corruption and worries. I’m jailed in with my own corruption. However my worries are soothed and smoothed over by my unlonesome other half.

I penetrate the feeling, my hands full of sin…but if I am only to know about it would it constitute as sin?

“Sin,” life in itself is sin, death is sin, and those surrounding the lord are sin. So what is the essence of sin? Is it the forgoing of ignoring your conscience? Or is it something else?

A “conscience,” a voice of the white haired and aged flesh, or is it the voice of your own experience?

I haven’t any conscience says I, to proclaim that, just another sin. I feed my agitating life off my agitating thoughts. I record those demons to release my ownership of the large cult of them I keep hidden. However, I do enjoy their inspirational company.

So what to do says I. I live my in my lust filled thoughts, jail my life, deny my conscience, and pray much thanks to the lord for my demons. The onlookers, foolish people, they presume I’m cursed for my failures. However me thinks I be lucky for my lessons.