I once clung to terror like a loving mother
the warmth of its grasp encasing my skin
with some thick syrup; the wealth of my anguish
could wail without restraint
the wretchedness of my shape wrapped tightly
in the cover of its solace

There was no divinity without succumbing
to ugliness, without the threat of material danger
without reckoning oneself as some Christ
on the cross agonizing for an ultimate glory

Submitting to the vileness of indulgence
at the mercy of a sensual landscape
one shadows thе great sin of spiritual emptiness

Cruеlty was once the sublime master of my tainted flesh
gunning me down like a soldier ingrained
with ruthlessness until my earth was magnificently war-torn

I once held evil like a dear
deifying the consolations of the damned
yielding to its promises of eluding mediocrity
and reaching some abject purity
through the trenches of vice

Somewhere, there is a yearning to transcend
the patriarchs of suffering with works
of tenderness; to surpass decadence
of self-pity and defy the seduction of perversion's liqueur

Somewhere, there is a fruitful dwelling between
the world of depravity and the condolences of grace

Somewhere, I bear the peril of hope in my expanse