Forgive me father, for I have sinned

Oh God, I prayed, When my heart was meek and just And pure like the Thames. My words, burning coals of faith. But the carnal brew I sipped. And rising oceans of filth consumed my spirit. Hymns on my lips, libido on my flesh.

Oh! Don't call me a hypocrite yet But know... Sanctity is an Irony for my sins. My passions I knead, soft and gentle like a baker to bread. I'm entangled in a circle with demons. And to anything round, there is no end.

Holy mother I still pray But the devil before me I kiss

A poem By 'Anyaene Chisom'