Who knows my wants,
Who knows my fears.
What causes joy
Causes tears.
She's the chill that's down my spine.
She's everyone's and mine.
Who knows to punish
And dishearten.
Knows everything
But how to pardon.
I can never run away.
No, I can only pray.
To clear my mind,
To clear my chest,
God will forgive.
She does the rest.
My flesh is always back and forth.
She sharply points to north.
I will not dare
To lay my eyes
On any hint
Of sins disguised
If I believe I won't withstand
The striking of her hand.
YOU ARE READING
Compass
PoetryAn ongoing collection of poetry describing the source or maybe development of my worries, joys, and/or morality
