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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1902059
This poem represents a deep, dark aspect of my life that I struggle to cope with everyday
 
The Past Of A Saint


I tried and I thought, I had pushed you away
But as time passed by, I stayed in place
Fighting was futile, and so for you I wait
Clung to the edge, not to fall far from your grace
As an old saying goes, some things never change
I never did and never could, learn from my mistakes
Not on the first time, and not on the eighth
Perhaps if I, was a man of faith
I might swallow my pride, to break down and pray
Away all the shame and regret, that leaves my soul stained
My strength has been drained
My patience is strained
By a frustrating anger, that has since swelled into rage
With every reflection, staring back in my face
I have nothing to lose, everything to gain
If only I could, rise above the pain
I descend in life stuck, in dark shades of gray
Sometimes to me, it seems easier that way
The burden is mine, alone I bear the weight
As my heart slowly rots, my spirit fading away
I have given in to your misery, suffering and your hate
Trapped by blind love, with no means of escape
I have submitted, and am now shackled and chained
This fate seems eternal, from your grasp I cannot be saved
My pain is internal, each day is one more shred of humanity slain
To you my demon master, I am no more than a slave
And so my only peace, awaits at your grave
Marked by a stone that reads my own name
But who is to judge, the past of a saint





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