the sinner laments

in meekness, his soul desired;
in weakness, his flesh retired.
yet so easily, he set his soul on fire,
again succumbing to his fleshly desire,
bogging himself in this swampy mire.

despite the cognizance,
of the need for repentance,
he led a life of reluctance;
one which reeked of repugnance,
one in need of penitence.

‘ye almighty!’
he cried out in melancholy.
‘has this pitiful life sated your ennui?
a vile slave that’s chained to iniquity?’

this enmity,
was just another daft futility.
‘depravity…’
he came to terms with reality.

***

nothingness breathed into life; created.
to be our own gods; we rebelled.
from dust to dust; we were condemned.
an outpouring of grace; we were saved.

at the end of the pilgrimage of sanctification
lay the casket that ended all persecution
yet this resting place will not be my last;
and this beatific smile will merely be my first.

brought back to life;
we were arraigned.
acquitted of vice;
we were justified.

just another

what am i doing with my life?
whispering to myself all these lies,
justifying all my withheld tithes.
see not this pandemic that runs rife?
just another confused youth

time after time, ‘i don’t have time’.
forced into a rush, all i do is whine.
rebuffing concerns, i declare ‘i’m fine’.
i had no right, the fault was mine.
just another incorrigible sloth.

dancing through calamity in pure bliss,
completely oblivious to the serpent’s hiss.
perhaps it’s time i come to confess:
wholly foolish; and wholly careless.
just another play-pretend sleuth.

yet logic reasons to me,
and the path is plain to see.
giddily, i shudder with mirth;
this pained comedy of the mind’s labyrinth,
its vain portrayal of a polymath.

maybe.
maybe just maybe.
i’m just another sociopath.

but a mere pawn

‘i’m a mess,’
no better than cess;
‘a trainwreck, i confess.
i’d be a pawn if life were chess.’

but why despair at being a pawn?
everyone feels small at some point.
we all worry, we all fear, we all stumble.

rooks and knights and bishops and the queen.
we look at them  in envy and exclaim, ‘wow, aren’t they brilliant?’
‘why are they so beautiful and i, so pitiful?’
‘could i ever become someone like them?’
‘i hate myself.’

but what’s with the oversight of a pawn’s ability?
‘what ability?’ you ask, seemingly in astonishment.
‘is the pawn not just fodder?
the stones on which other pieces step on to attain glory?’
‘what ability could we possibly have?’
‘i feel guilty for being such a liability.’

yet once again, the pawn’s importance is overlooked.
a bare rook, a lone knight, an unguarded bishop, a solitary queen.
what successes, if any, await their own, futile frolics?

great empires had great emperors;
great emperors in turn had great generals;
and even great generals had the support of great soldiers.
no king has ever conquered by his lonesome.

pawns may never become kings,
but there will be no kingdom without pawns.
and yet we seem to be forgetting something,

there’s more to the pawn than just supporting the larger pieces.
they all have the potential to be tide turners, key players;
each one of them possess an inherent ability that no other piece have.

the pawn has the ability to change.

unlike all other pieces, the pawn can progress.
as they soldier on to the opposite end to the board,
combating obstacles, and conquering adversaries,
they improve themselves, augmenting their own abilities.
no longer would they stare across the board, green with envy;
instead, they looked will be looked at as equals.

so no, life isn’t so bad as a pawn.
in a way, we are all pawns;
seeking to better ourselves,
struggling to the other side,
running our own perpetual race,

on the chessboards of life.
don’t despair about being a pawn.
that is today, but we have tomorrow.
so hold off your sorrow.

as long as you have it within you
to make it to the other side,
you too can be something great.
self hatred and never-ending guilt,
they only stands in the way of true change.

the ability to change…

it’s pretty awesome.