I confess,
Trust that pure intentions do not erase my malicious acts.
I do believe in a higher power,
Where my soul stands on exposition through the fog,
Though cosmic karma is a belief I did not coin.
I am not Atlas and cannot bear the weight of my burdens.
Perhaps, I inherited the pride of my father and the gravity of my mother.
I keep my back straight while chains tie down my feet,
Trapped to forever face my ego.
I have no eagle feasting on my liver,
Only a conscious mind and an insatiable appetite.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Muses to Kalliope
PoetryThis poetry collection explores regret, isolation, philosophy, with a sprinkling of guilt. Historical references are encouraged! If you're just going through the motions of life, whether it be blissful or difficult, these poems are great companions...
