Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

20 Apr 2011

To Forgive Or Not To Forgive? That Is The Question.





Hear them shudder; see them shake, as they contemplate their fate; on long lonely moonlit nights.

Blackened Stone begets blackened stone; hearts set to roam alone; thine self fulfilling and forlorn prophecy.

Demand life's coloured claret, in vengeful hate and thine own certain peril is marked in graves.

Debt and fines, created in minds; purposefully executed warrants; besieged thine quacking enemy; relieved of breath!




Instantaneously, a dark wish fulfilled; a slaughtered enemy lays down killed, payment forced upon their soul.

No redemption came; no offer to change; no mercy to give; no compassion shown - love flown.

Family scribed with tears on tomb, friends pay respect and life is missing an important part.

Fallout: families crumble from the pain, killed more than one heart, when the enemy was slain.




Now, we reach the latter part, I'll endeavour to show you; Hell, on a round rock:

To swim In a sea of vengeance; without getting wet; can never be a sure bet!

Bathed in thine charge of honour; Splashed with waves of thine bitterness,  undercurrents dragging; washed up!

Karmic harmonics align; manifests thoughout lifetime; dreams ceased, plans awry, blackened hearts bound to die, sigh!




Forgiveness and forget is your only debt, hard to manage, but mastered; will leave no regret!

Forsake: to take a pink stone and make it black, for the sake of striking back.

For your own redemption, your own peace of mind, refuse to live in shadowy moonlit nights.

Understand these words if none other: Forgiveness is a selfless act; forgiveness is a selfish act.

5 comments:

Voyelles
A noir, E blanc, I rouge, U vert, O bleu : voyelles,
Je dirai quelque jour vos naissances latentes :
A, noir corset velu des mouches éclatantes
Qui bombinent autour des puanteurs cruelles,

Golfes d'ombre ; E, candeurs des vapeurs et des tentes,
Lances des glaciers fiers, rois blancs, frissons d'ombelles ;
I, pourpres, sang craché, rire des lèvres belles
Dans la colère ou les ivresses pénitentes ;

U, cycles, vibrements divins des mers virides,
Paix des pâtis semés d'animaux, paix des rides
Que l'alchimie imprime aux grands fronts studieux ;

O, suprême Clairon plein des strideurs étranges,
Silences traversés des Mondes et des Anges ;
- O l'Oméga, rayon violet de Ses Yeux !

@>--->----
 
Beauty


I am fair, O mortals! like a dream carved in stone,
And my breast where each one in turn has bruised himself
Is made to inspire in the poet a love
As eternal and silent as matter.


On a throne in the sky, a mysterious sphinx,
I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans;
I hate movement for it displaces lines,
And never do I weep and never do I laugh.


Poets, before my grandiose poses,
Which I seem to assume from the proudest statues,
Will consume their lives in austere study;


For I have, to enchant those submissive lovers,
Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful:
My eyes, my large, wide eyes of eternal brightness!

Charles Baudelaire

Translation : William Aggeler

@=
 
WOW! This is so incredibly true. Forgiveness is such a double edged blade. This hits very close to my heart right now for I am faced with just such a dilemma.

Thanks for feeding my thoughts!

Sammy
 
There is a saying, 'An eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind'. We never find satisfaction in vengence. Beautiful tale, wonderous words. (Hugs)Indigo
 
This is a pearl of a poem, exquisitely written, as always in true Gwylym style. That forgiveness is a selfless act and a selfish act is so deeply true. Q x
 

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