Sainted Sinner Poem by Brian Hinckley
Sainted Sinner
Saints or sinners
all blurred lines.
I feel the scream
boiling inside.
I cannot move,
stuck in the between.
I scream aloud,
shattering the last human parts of me.
I can no longer love,
the devil succeeds.
I can no longer touch,
the savior succeeds.
I scream in frustration
at what I have become.
I am hollow inside,
begging for release,
for just one night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/10/2024 10:04:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
