Wrath

 My soul has traveled many roads-
the path toward Hell, oh that it knows.
Self-destruction at its best-
it scorches Earth, before it Rests.

So fierce and ruthless, Lucifer kneels-
his fall from Grace is what he feels.
My vindictive Nature is what he fears-
my acts of Evil bring him to tears.

Not able to bear it, he cries for Mercy-
when will this Soul ever let him be?
I am the Monster, he thinks for sure-
That I am Satan, and he is Pure.

Bur I assure you, my Soul is Good-
I'm just not very well understood.
You may think indeed, that I'm a monstrosity-
but my True Self, only God can see.

Reviews

[OilsandSyntax]

Atticus Langston, your name is an intrigue.
It was actually your name that drew my curiosity and caused me to click on your poem.
I love the idea of your poem, and your rhyming is nice. There were a few places I thought the rhythm could be better though. A few longer syllabled words that read awkwardly withing the previous flow of the lines before. Overall, though a good introspect. I enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sharing.