Bloodied Hands: Inner Call Poem by Reye Binst

Killed another man today
But guilt has long faded away
What I am now is an empty killing machine
Already gave up on becoming clean
Bitter salvation just a step out of reach
But my invisible prison just can't be breached
So alone I sit, not knowing what to do
But to kill and kill, until I too
Will perish from sins unforgiven
With soul torn and no keys to heaven
Dirty, bloodied hands
I try to wash them clean
Yet these crimson stained brands
Are forever constant in my line of vision
As a remembrance of my once innocent soul...
That way back then, I had felt whole
My bloodied hands, an inner call
A constant annoyance of myself held in thrall.