Insight Poem by Danny The Dreamer Boyd

It's slightly strange how one—in peace—could watch:
His very hanging soul before his eyes,
All bloody, yet doth manage finding joy,
While fills his face a sick sadistic smile:
That dead—how clever! —hides his dreadful guile,
And hugs along persistent poses coy,
But fails to freeze the covert tears he cries;
Oh, sin by sin his soul still slowly dies:
Addicted yet, what else but sin enjoy?
Though deep within—perchance—he drowns in bile,
Still knowing leading ne'er no life senile:
Doth aid so oft all rotten thoughts destroy,
Defers the darkness, doomed—at last—to rise:
Which did when kenned forever's just too much!