Saintful Sinner Poem by Shivangi Chaturvedi

Saintful Sinner, I am
Why do you mock me so?
I do not accept your tired
shallow shrills of violence.
I do not bend to your
cold unyielding voice.

You can scream with indignation,
and slam the gates of hell.
I will not, not now, not never,
yield to your sad cruel eyes.

Saintful Sinner, I am
prouder than the proudest skin.
God made me, and thus loves me
either that, or he jokes within,
And I laugh proudly.

Fear me not, for I am a lover.
Hate me not, for I am a friend.
I smile and cry just like a person,
and the torture, it pains me too.

But I will hold your hand, when you are hurt,
and wipe your tears, when you bleed.
Saintful Sinner, I am.