Guilt (Poetry)

How many men will scream when the end arrives to collect 
Tell your brothers to bundle the guilt scattered across the world
Don’t be like the one who creates himself a bastard
With your head in your hands, the world spins forever
Like the hum of plans and fools

We can burn the effigy, no longer stable enough for forgiveness
Some of you will crawl inside
Consumed by the sun, melting guilt to gold
The smith reshapes the body
Still the teeth of my betrayal inject me with memory
Memories I can’t give back


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