Confessions of an Old King

Lord Forgive me.

Trying to remember the past, to make memories in the future.

I've tooled myself for hate, doubt, and resentment, it;s impossible to accept forgiveness when your a living mistake.

Repulesd by my exsistance but the irony exists when I feel like I'm a catalyst for excellence.

The King with the withered crown. (Once because I came from nothing, now because I am nothing)

Would you live in my kingdom?

Can my rule change the corrupt rules of society and bring piety to a land of the blind and green?

Or will my self proclimation be the cause of my indoctrination, because I unrightly believe I deserve "more" because so, to achieve I would sell all I believe.

More irony.

That only deminshes the value of the thing I wanted to see.

My heart reaks with pain, love left a stain on my soul that make it unsightly.

My destiny cries (dramatic) because it cannot claim it's right because the decisions I make out of desire, not progression, sinks my entity into a recession of time.

Forgetting all the life lessons that made my adolecence more mature.

Denying the essence of my potential.

Cursing anything spiritual " you don't fit my humanity I'm purley physical if it can't please my genitals don't present it to my visuals."

I don't feel emotion or understand intuition.

My soul is uneducated and I've surrendered to a nation where hate rules as a great.

The future doesn't exist for the faithless for they don't believe in anything that can't be calculated.

During days past I used to have a hand that could lead an armt against the enemies of man.

A voice that could convince vanity her beauty was in the strength of her heartbeat.

Candor to teach snails speed and lions peace.

Remove violence from the shine of the moon and lies from the rays of the sun.

The only thing my hands would grasp was the presence of God and by his doctrine would i claim royalty.

Now I call his love lies and proclaim myself a god before demons and lead them to suffice my desire of the moment instead of satisfying my need of the future.

Time has become crucial.

But I try and think outside that plain so I don't strain my brain and that guilt might not catch me.

A slave to my failures and everyday they whip me to remind me of who I'll never be.

I would cry to produce relief but I don't deserve my own pity.

Honestly I grow tired of this cycle of enimity and I see the world needs my blade and tounge but neither can act properly in the body of a zombie.

Mindless and soulless.

I've grown away from prayers for I believe they now fall apon deaf ears but if it is in need may God hear my apology and cry, cleanse me that once more I may walk as a God fearing king.

Reviews

[InfiniteInk]

Thanks I appreciate it. Kenneth Coleman.

[Kenneth Coleman]

Wow a very great piece and very deep. The anaologies made me think. And I loved your use of alliteration. The whole piece was very grasping. I loved it.