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My Murder
I did it, it was me!
I shot the man who came to help me
But I was confused—distraught, blinded
Can you not understand it was in the blackness of night?
Oh my soul, it is cumbered with guilt
I shot a man, whom only intended good will,
Killed him, in cold blood.
Now I stand over his corpse
Tears streaming down my face
Splashing on his lifeless body as
If they could somehow heal his wounds and revive his pulse.
What I have I done?
Oh the horror—the horror that awaits me
The punishment—the shame
The night terrors that will forever haunt me
I will wake in the middle of the night
To words of kindness—it will eat at me
I will never be able to rest
A guilty conscience is worst then death
And no justice I could do can make amends
For this evil deed
That even the devil himself would not commit.
Oh the horror, the horror,
My soul is surely damned
For this man I have just killed,
Was surely no ordinary man.
interesting I swear have
interesting I swear have heard this story before only more detailed and in a more surreal manner told, now I hear compassion in this piece, empathy and and self dread.
a murderer has no concience only self satisfaction.
accidents happen to all. the catalyst of death comes in many forms
but a deliberate move to end a life is unforgivable.
state of panic does not necessarily a murder make but rather a victim of fate.
compelling read.
thanks.
Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS
"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."
Ditto allets. Murderers
Ditto allets. Murderers suffer their own hell, and no punishment another placed upon them will equal their own, (consciously or subconsciously). Their only hope is belief in a power greater than they. The public daunts on crime way needlessly. Law and order come from a disciplined mind. From that will come a wise and discerning love.
And then there are the wrongly accused...who suffer the label.... ad of who few understand...
And what of the ones who are truly confused and know it ie: a friend's son with aspergers was being taunted by bullys calling him a fag...he is straight... he killed one...immediately turned himself in...simple minded. What of what of...the list goes on until we look with eyes of love and compassion. Some say "cruel world".
I say "whacked minds of society".
....
.....
....
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Powerful and gripping! Keep
Powerful and gripping! Keep up the great work
I really liked this, Thank
I really liked this, Thank you for posting it! :)
Remorse
I did it. Confession helps, but does not cleanse. Penitence soothes but does not heal - Murder is a lifetime sentence for the survivor with the gun ~Lady A~