Humanity is Frail

How can I now say to you anything but lies?
All the pain you bear is borne in your frightened eyes.
And thus I mouth the words again, somehow I get them out,
But deep inside I'm struggling to not just scream and shout.
I must refrain from killing things, from breaking things, from pain,
For given just an instant more I would have gone insane.
Repression is my way of life. Emoting is unfair.
And even if I did emote, you can't stand what's in there.
I cannot really be myself, or say what's on my mind,
But then again, I've never been considered to be kind.
So sulkily I silently sit here and pour forth rage
Upon a simple canopy, a spotless, perfect page.
Deep within my inner parts the bile rises swift,
And thus my head instead has said, 'These curses are my gift.'
Oh how does man get up again from such a night as this?
Even now I feel repulsed just thinking of a kiss.
It sickens me, it makes me ill, to ponder joy and peace
Because of how the hell has grown and darkness never cease.
How do we rise from this place? How dare we greet the dawn?
Unbearable is this our life, yet all I do is yawn.
For this, or something like it, men will beat their wives.
For this, or something lesser, girls will sell their lives.
For this, and nothing greater, all hope is lost or sold.
For this, and nothing further, we try to grasp and hold.
But too much time has penned away, and so I take my leave,
Leaving us no proper stance, and leaving us to grieve.


Incessant Rape

The soul bears weight that heart or mind cannot contain in full.
That something of such great beauty is now so less than whole
Is more than man can bear to see, or hear, or touch, or stand.
My eyes refuse to shed these tears for they won't reach her hand,
For they are far too hot and dry with anger, pain, and sin.
Disgusting are the pleasures of a man who burns for skin.
And such a man stares back at me, a mirror of my face,
And yet so twisted up inside he curses his own race.
Desires make a different claim when dark is day around,
And yet in sunlit shadows here such wanting is not found.
'Just one more time; a little more', and so perpetuates
The lies that hurt us deeper still. The silent Savior waits.
Who remembers yesterday? Who's seen the setting sun?
So why have we these awful things that leave us so undone?
Morning dew is nothing new, yet nor is lust that burns,
And as the days pass into night again they take their turns.
The innocence of nakedness, oh where have you now gone?
Instead we wrestle quietly and miss the Morning's dawn.
There's something buried in her face and lost from her fair lips
That once dripped out like summer sun, now in brothel drips.
We glimpse, we note, we see it brief, but then it's gone again.
The purity I never had makes me want what once has been.
Dear Eve I wish I had known you before the world was lost.
From the rib was made in you a treasure beyond cost.
And now I long to gain that prize no man since then has seen,
But sweat and blood and brokenness is sold for paper green.
You know not, girl, how much I long to want you pure and right.
Why is this thing, this part of me, so prone to crave the night?
Sick it is, and sick am I. We want, and yet we don't.
I'd trade my wants for happiness, but then again, I won't.
How can I look indignantly upon what I've enjoyed?
Who has not in secret times with such ideas not toyed?
Forgive me, lass, forgive me, all, for give I never do.
I take, I want, I'm never full, and so I look to you.
What joy 'twould be to see you pure and naked in the sun,
While I did nothing more than sing such praises to the One.
We've lost the joy that this pain pounds to make us more aware
That beauty in a female form was once, and yet is there.
My soul longs to be intimate with yours and with your heart,
But long before that future day, today must be the start.
I cannot even start to dream to what that would compare,
For sin has so encompassed me that I'm no longer there.