A Sense of Guilt

It smells like rusted metal That no longer keeps the boat afloat On a river infested with dead fish Whose rancid scent clogs your nose It sounds like the galling squawk of crows Plundering the spacious corn field Their proud squeal resonating in a sketchy land Your ears left to create their own hush It lives in a murky well with muddy walls With only the darkness of its own demise To show the way of its sinister life Promising enduring anguish to the weak It eats the flesh and drinks the blood From the vigorous but tainted heart And leaves behind worms that will breed And consume the rotting carcass It gives an ugly voice to the wicked Telling stories ending in shame Uncovering the disfigured face Of what was once honor and pride It follows the deserted road set in darkness Taken only by the lost and the miserable At war alongside the dark side within An Armageddon to fight alone in the shadows It is the child of the corrupt, the spawn of the dishonest Born to be punished, its last breath breeding freedom The inner shift and clash fading away through the light Replaced by the wholesome spirit, redeemed by faith and peace