My hands are no longer free of blood
My mind is no longer clean from the mud
There are rivers and lakes of poisonous wine
There are fleshly areas with needles from a porcupine
My eyes no longer have rose colored lens
My heart is no longer a virgin to sins
There are orchards of vile rotting fruit
There are sturdy weeds that have taken root
My ears are no longer open as before
My feet are the soles of a sinner and whore
There are vile words that easily roll off my tongue
There are skies that will blush over the things I’ve done
My dreams are a circus of devils and saints
My art is a conglomeration of light and dark paints
There are deeds that will make your soul grieve
There are paths taken that you would not believe
My wings have been clipped my halo is no more
My rich emotions now falter so poor
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