I am not a good man
-I rot within my good intentions.
Blind to truths
and victim to chance
My heaven will burn in black flames.

They say good intentions pave the
way to evil, so where do cruel intentions
lead? By way of simple caustion, I think, does cruelty of heart usher a
stain of love.

Apart of myself,
-The quiet young man beside the door,
Wonders what intentions he has for himself. Since life is just a shallow
dream, and the nightmare resides in his unknowns, he contemplates his
demise.

No one really remembers their youth,
but I do.
When I look into the mirror
Finding familiar scars
Discovering the child.
-He is so alone
-So naked and pure
-Held prisoner to actions
he has yet to know
or feel.

I envy him, the ghost of a boy who never found his way.
He worshipped a hollow father and woke to the desperate cries of his
mother.
-What could he do?
he is so young.

I envy the man-child who held
death in his arms. That broken
form of a friend.

If love for a brother was true,
then god was absent today.

I envy the emotion of loss in his eyes.
Of love,
Of him, his half-self
Of life gone wrong.
-He could never know.

With such blind faith, he watched
while my body ached, trying to remain pure.
I am not a good man.

I envy his tears for the
Actions my hands have wrought.
Through my attempts to know all ends,
My Good intentions
Destroyed my vision
of the future.

This false prophet through sight
of un-holy means, paves the way
to the fall.

He, myself, we are so alone.
Trapped to this unyielding
childhood where nothing grows
Nothing changes.

A self-imposed statue in regards
to standing against unworldly times.

I am not a good man.
 
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