“Fantasy of forgiveness” by a.d.matthias.

The five sorrowful mysteries shudder within these pellicle walls, and they are not Enough
Lost are the pleas upon deafened ears, what is the throat useful for
Blood-sweat is fallen when waxen agony is traced with splintered fingernails
The tattoos of repentance delivering languor for a broken mind, as meant to
Nine tails cursing and cracking, rapaciously blinded for a statement to make
Leaving messages across the fleshy pillar in symbolic stripes and hieroglyphic half-moons

My Hope Arises.

And I pray, inclined to the retired hues of sandhills,
The moon had lowered its light to my hands,
As though I was passed by its shadow, never forgotten,
When the dark dusk covers the squill, a pack of doctrines
Laid memory in sight, emaciated by the mercy,
The cries caressed my overlapped palms to the words I impart
As these alone could not touch me.