Muted By The Hood Of Sweet Repentance Poem by Captain Cur

This oath I swore, my heart was younger then,
impatience ruled and stormed the realm of night,
horrors cast where the bloodlet stains are penned
my fortunes mired, insured by ways of might.
Potent words like charms, in themselves believe
following blind or shepherding the herd,
unleashing lies religiously received
the finer truths repressed and undisturbed.
When bold in wisdom's sight a question wakes;
frenzied passions yield, calm influence grows,
this pure savagery swarms outside my gates
less infests my mind or alarms my soul,
suddenly, when the swift cut of death strikes
with alacrity and forced acceptance
those same words impoverishing my psych
muted by the hood of sweet repentance.