Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Priest

I always spelled out my secrets,

but in a language nobody could read.

Have I always been so devious?

Why, yes, of course,

but that’s half the fun of someone like me.

Destruction in a delicious package,

I taste like the sweetest kind of treachery,

never fulfilling all the debts that belong to me.

Daughter of the devil, and an angel that fell into his trap,

I am a self aware sin,

and I cannot confess enough to make it stop.

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