Old Sins

The sins have almost
All rubbed off,
Replaced with the dirt and grime
Of hard time's waiting,
When the only solace was in
Mindless ignorance, and
Empty sympathies.

The mirrored glass of my soul
Was cracked, but the
Pieces have begun to come
Together, joined by spider-web friendships
That break apart when I breathe
Too deeply.

I can no longer see my inner
Demons' reflection: the glass
Is too stained with
Filth, and streaked with raindrop-
Morbid-ecstasy.

my affiliations have been lost
In my affections,
Twined around my misfit interactions,
Lost long the twisting roads of
My traitor's heart.

Stumbling blind across the path, the thorns
Of shriveled roses, long dead, cut my feet,
And stain my chains with crimson regret.

Blood washes away the dirt, and old sins
Are fresh again.