Monday, March 15, 2010

Sonnet I

When I tire of repentance-cycle life,
Turning violently back upon myself,
I move to match my lurking shadow-strife
And place my Holy Sword upon a shelf 
Then the darkness that ever creeps behind
Is accomplice to my dark revelry
Sinful acts and idleness are entwined
In the start of a growing devilry
Not caring to struggle in a lost fight
I let the heavy chains encircle me
Because I know that I have not the might
To climb out of the valley and walk free
The still small Voice after fire reminds
I need not my own strength to break the binds


  1. I really like this Mark- well done.


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