before you start reading,i would like you to know that this poem is inspired by the great book Crime and Punishment written by the legendary Fyodor Desteovesky.Its written in the form of a dialogue between the auther(of the poem) and the protagonist of Crime and Punishment (raskolnikov).
i would like a full review if thats possible,and thank you for your time.
But in your life there lingers a story
A plain old pain of a course lie
That every mirth and gleeful glory
Lies in the folds of your mind
and thou art ugly in your own eyes
and thou art thy curse, thy happiness, thy sorrow, thy demise
an ancient lullaby of how you came to ruins
and how you came to rise
You built your towers; a brick of falsehood
a brick of greed, a brick of pride
Dwelled in your deranged mind
Watched them turn into dusty flames
Watched them turn into a monstrous lie
You claim you’re lost in a delirium of thoughts
But what delirium justifies taking a life
so when you leaf through those papers and folds
What mirth, what glory, there, is yours?!
You wander through the empty roads of life
Soulless, drowned in a sea of remorse
Listening to your own rhyme of guiltiness
You cry out in denial! “I’m no murderer!
I’m a savior of this world’s pride!
She, an insignificant soul, full of hatred and wickedness
Is deceased, left a world an entity less
Left a world with less vileness!”
“But I am a murderer, I killed a soul!
The guilt is all mine, my guilt divine
My guilt surmounts all-
You have no right to judge in your own light,
You have no right to think at all!-
You are a puppet, a mischievous puppet!
Swaying to a death rhyme of your own
Obedient to a book of rules fed to you since you were born
So don’t you lecture me, don’t you blame me
For I have sinned but your sin’s gone far more…
i would like a full review if thats possible,and thank you for your time.
But in your life there lingers a story
A plain old pain of a course lie
That every mirth and gleeful glory
Lies in the folds of your mind
and thou art ugly in your own eyes
and thou art thy curse, thy happiness, thy sorrow, thy demise
an ancient lullaby of how you came to ruins
and how you came to rise
You built your towers; a brick of falsehood
a brick of greed, a brick of pride
Dwelled in your deranged mind
Watched them turn into dusty flames
Watched them turn into a monstrous lie
You claim you’re lost in a delirium of thoughts
But what delirium justifies taking a life
so when you leaf through those papers and folds
What mirth, what glory, there, is yours?!
You wander through the empty roads of life
Soulless, drowned in a sea of remorse
Listening to your own rhyme of guiltiness
You cry out in denial! “I’m no murderer!
I’m a savior of this world’s pride!
She, an insignificant soul, full of hatred and wickedness
Is deceased, left a world an entity less
Left a world with less vileness!”
“But I am a murderer, I killed a soul!
The guilt is all mine, my guilt divine
My guilt surmounts all-
You have no right to judge in your own light,
You have no right to think at all!-
You are a puppet, a mischievous puppet!
Swaying to a death rhyme of your own
Obedient to a book of rules fed to you since you were born
So don’t you lecture me, don’t you blame me
For I have sinned but your sin’s gone far more…