I let the work speak for itself.
Torn in two by two desires,
Burned black by Fear’s fires,
I lie on my bed alone
with a cracked heart of stone.
My soul soaks, flooded by blood
shed in the war in my core,
A war of two desires.
I cannot have what I want
And do right,
And so war is waged between I
And the light.
I want to be free to flee!
To be with she who gives me glee!
Yet to leave my moral compass behind
Would lead me to be lost and blind.
The war wages on in my cracked heart of stone,
As I lie on the floor, not completely alone.
To the very Light that my lust fights,
My blood-soaked soul screams,
“WHY MUST MY CONSCIENCE PERSIST!?”
“WHY MUST RIGHT AND WRONG EXIST?”
Through each and every stain,
Through the blood and the pain,
The Light that will always remain says to me,
“I Am, Right.”