We’re fallen and the compass still points south
when we forsake aubade, hear dusk’s slain song
when we forsake discretion, use our mouth
to slander, wound, embrace that which is wrong

We’re broken: guilty with corrupt face, eye
and still a voice reminds us of our hate
the hardest hearts can break, lament this sigh
because we know how the fall sealed our fate

But you were good, created to see light
to know the truth that most cannot grasp, find
and you still left, surrendered to torn scheme
and now we’re tied to sin, to grief and night
with manacles and chains; we fight our bind
what made you darken finitude’s bright theme?

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2017)

Protected by Copyscape

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