A Spiritual Poem: The Fall

[KontanKarite]

The Fall
I believe this is good
I've served you excellently
My lord. My lady.
But you grow silent.
Can't you hear me?
I've done my best.
Now, now I feel the tug
Of gravity and terminal velocity
It burns through downy, skin, and chars bone

I am far away from the light of God.
Every move I make is a move of redemption.
Every ounce of effort is a plea for forgiveness.
Every action... is perverted by despair and darkness.
My good deeds and my actions...
Lord, they can no longer serve you.

Every moment that I give in hopes of forgiveness
Only punctuates the reality of where I have fallen.
In this darkness, I try vainly to be as noble as I once was.
Every action is either a hopeful, desperate action of selfishness
Tainted goodness
Or an action of despair, when my heart says...
You can lose a little more of yourself.
You're never coming back.

That is the dilemma of those who have fallen from the graces of God.
No longer is their goodness a means of selfless love
It is of desperation and wild hope. Yet reinforced by equal parts
Of good deeds that only serve to contribute to the decay.

[Denchera]

That's pretty good, I could never make something this good, that's why I draw instead.

[KontanKarite]

Actually, it's perfect bollocks.

Seriously... it's pretty fucking bad.

It's nothing at all like Wendel Berry, Yeats, Oscar Wilde, or Shakespear.

Jesus... This was terrible.

[Despanan]

Dude, you're comparing your work to Masters. They are masters for a reason. You're pretty much just starting out. Art is a process of self-discovery, you won't be a master until you know who you are. It's good to have masterwork as your eventual goal but don't let not matching up to it discourage you.

I liked your "tainted goodness" line.