Secondhand Surrender

To every heart, beating or cold...

We are souls, who are bound in blood and bone.

Hypocrites, we are traitors to our own.

Petty cruelties that the dark hearts devise.

Whispering to me the whitest of lies.

 

Lifestyles of the lurid, eternity undone.

I am the patron saint of prodigal sons.

 

Forbidden fruit, blood spilled in our Eden.

Bless the curse, that showed us what we needed.

Poise and penance of unworthy intent.

Without the virtue of holy consent.

 

Of cadence and candour, all rise and all part.

You are the portrait of the erstwhile heart.

 

If sight was given to the blind man,

Would he ever close his eyes again?

 

If life was given to the dead man,

Would he ever learn to truly live?

 

If my heart has seen the light,

Why do I feel so lost tonight?

Reviews

[paparapapa]

First, I seriously read Secondhand Serenade when I saw the title. :)) Well, anyway, this was powerful, dark, and just... uhm, negative and sad. And yes, this exuded coldness. But I found this poem really captivating. How you used terms from the Bible, how you played with words, how you made it rhyme occasionally, and how this flowed were brilliant. And how you ended this with three mind-boggling questions was creative and interesting. I think this one's my favorite from you so far. Keep on writing. :)

[CharlesMonroe]

This is AMAZING. It's dark and powerful, and it creates a cloud of sooo many different images. It somehow manages to be uber depressing, and somehow uplifting. I love it; It's going straight into my favorites.