Upon This Soul

Upon This Soul
by Keaton Foster



Upon this soul,
There are bones.

Killer be kind,
Whispered most times.

I was sorry
In those moments.

No longer
Have I since been.

Unforgivable
Are such sins.

Meaning and motive
Matters not.

Immovable
Was the force.

Undeniable
Was the cause.

Dead is death,
Life, such a mess.

What has been
Will never be again.

Suffer they did,
Further I must.

I will pay
Every damn price.

As I always have,
As I always will.

I am right
When I’m wrong.

Because what I know
Surpasses all else.

The darkness falls,
An emptiness sprawls.

Forever it goes,
Always does it show.

The truth of this fight,
The reason for such spite.

Upon this soul,
Everything is.

God knows,
He won’t forgive.

How could he ever?
I am not his.

Nor is he mine,
But regardless of

Lacking allocation,
I shall be doomed.

For all that I’ve done,
And what I’ve become.

These hands are mud,
Clean they can’t become.

My eyes are sunk,
Deeper than perception.

This mind, a prison
Within confinement.

Beyond reasonable,
My callous heart screams.

Fighting to explode,
Tearing itself apart.

As the reality of life
Holds it together.

Upon this soul,
There are bones.

On my hands,
There is blood.

Things that can’t,
Won’t ever be undone.

I did what I did,
Willingly I’ll admit.

Survival,
The greater need.

Doing all that has been
Within the confines of this.

My own preservation
Has always meant more.

I am right
When I’m wrong.

Because of what I know,
And what I’ve been shown.

I wish I could change,
But of course,

It’s far too late.
God won’t forgive,

He will only judge.
I am not his,

He is not mine.
But by his rules,

And the rules
Of all humankind,

I will pay
Every damn price.

Upon this soul,
There are bones.

Maybe they deserved it,
Then again,

Maybe I did
And still do?



Upon This Soul
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2019