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A poem about conflict between the spirit and the flesh.

Submitted:Jan 5, 2007    Reads: 132    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   

Accordance to being accursed,

Forethoughts of dealing affliction,

I must adorn atonement,

But I get side tracked,

On my way to church.

I want to be bereaved,

As I stare at my bier,

So many blemishes,

My soul can hardly breathe,

Visualization of calamities,

I have dispersed so much negativity,

It has all come back,

And it rips at me,

The hurt of enemies and friends,

And their families,

I feel like I have been besieged,

Surrounded by my own speach,

I can smell my dirty deeds,

They fling themselves upon me.

Eating at my spiritual self esteem.

But it is all a dream.

I wake and seek,

Malice on the meek,

Dealing pain upon the weak,

Seeking vindication with vengeance,

Curses spew from every sentence,

I WILL not wish to change,

Not until I sleep.


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