|
Six Sheets to the wind, and still I'm off still running. The hounds at my heels call none other than myself their master, or perhaps (more accurately), -their owner. Acting on orders at the behest of my conscience, they nip at my heels' trails and chase me towards hell in an attempt to make me pay for my sins. But more years and more towns and more roads under my belt and still I'm left running, empty. The hollow feelng residing inside my chest hasn't ceased and departed. I still can't stop blaming myself as I edge my way to hell, looking for some kind of absolution to set me free from my guilt,. I still traverse a mortal earth with immortal guilt, a repentant sinner, running six sheets to the wind. |
Copyright ©2009 Ashi Shadow - 12/05/04 was original.
* is there a verb for when Satan lets souls go? Is it just release?
Wanted another word instead of absolution.
"Myself" instead of "My guilt" ?
Note: when I say "Six Sheets to the wind" in my poems I actually mean speeding off to nowhere, a tramp MIA.