..
Wide the gates, in resolute form beneath the tides
that crush, suffering upon the hand a desperate need
to rise, fall, and be alive within the ever presence
of the minutes, that crumble behind the solace of our eyes.
To me you'll rise, grasping all of virtue and purity and bliss
to form the mountain, that all might kneel by silent vigil
yet humble the beggar, in tattered rags raising shining steel
that cleaves the night, to swallow whole the wicked path.
To me you'll fall, a stagnant outcast of an outlandish decadence
raise to me your toast, of bones and dust and broken dreams
I will teach your flesh, to sing and dance on putrid roads
it's me you'll worship, by the alter of the forsaken son.
We are Virtue and Sin, and the crying eyes of Mother
together we are whole, distinct of mortal toil.
We are bound, meant as entwining limbs to circle forever
to drift again an eternity in woeful verse
for we are balance, the tainted chalice of repentance
and the fire, that burns the skin yet lights the path.
..
Author notes
7, Write about keeping the balance between Sins and Virtues...
rough draft, will be back to edit.
A contest entry
- Seven Sins. by Walking Oxymoron.
700 points, ended November 24, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Balance.
Loved the last two lines! Sums it all togetehr nicely!
Great write. -
Wow
This was amazing! Good luck in the contest! -
had to come back and read again, all in balance
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wow
shivers my friend
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through suffering we find virtue
that is my simple way of saying it,
but you have expressed this brilliantly
I am the virtue in sin, and the crying eyes of mother , I am the sands and the fragmented footprints to heaven hell.
well this reads like a gold my friend
God bless you...
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