That Vile Claw

That Vile Claw

My actions and words have soiled the divine,

And injected venom into pure veins.

In thought, God’s voice sounded so much like mine,

And, yet, how could God inflict so much pain?

The hand of this villain bore no nail scars;

That vile claw, soaked thick with blackest sin,

That vile claw now scratches at prison bars,

The same wicked limb that snapped in life’s winds,

And fell like the Angel of Morning Light

Onto the man’s face that shared your warm bed.

That wicked claw that set flame to the night,

Struck out like an asp, and filled you with dread.

Let that claw hang with the fruits of cursed Spring,

When, my wretched corpse, from the gallows swings.

Author's Note

sorry. I'm anything but a purist. :)

Reviews

[Kerry O'Connor]

There are more than enough purists in the world already, RG. What the world needs is innovators. And that you are, by taking a traditional form, shaking it up a little but throwing in the full rhyme scheme for good measure.
That rhyming couplet rocks!

[Robin]

that vile claw of condemnation , raw poetry