Poetry Collection

The Guilt of Killing a Man

She walks the streets, her lips form a smile.

But deep inside, her heart’s in denial.

The heavy weight drags her down,

The guilt of killing a man.

She hides her crime deep in her soul

A crime, maybe, ought to make your conscience dull.

No! Not hers, not at all!

Her conscience has woken since her fall.

Her conscience is sharp and precise,

For her crime she paid a price.

She daily pays the debt of sin,

And the only currency that can win

Is in the form of guilt,

The guilt of killing a man.

Her life goes on,

She walks down the aisle,

But in her throat, she tastes bile.

Bile that rose at the thought of long life,

Which she denied another because of strife.

She carries a baby and defies

The warnings and words of the wise,

“Making one life does not save another.”

And yet she believes that by being a mother

She can end the nightmares and kill the guilt,

The guilt of killing a man.

On and on her story goes

And as life goes on time shows

The life that should have been in his reach

And as life goes on, time will teach

No matter how old you grow

No matter how far you go,

The guilt remains,

The guilt remains!

The guilt of killing a man.

In old age she searches for meaning,

In pursuit of happiness guilt’s intervening.

She knows that somehow hope is what she’ll find,

Meanwhile, she’s going out of her mind

Thinking about the hustle and bustle of everyday life

And now she’s a widow, not a wife.

Laying in her deathbed, deliriously dreaming

She thinks of all the times she was scheming,

Planning to end a life in her sleep,

The secret she will always keep.

At last, at the end of the tunnel she sees a light,

And she surrenders, without a fight.

Finally she is at peace,

And her soul feels sweet release.

She feels happy, without restraint

Now she lays down to die without complaint.

At last, she’s free!

Free from the guilt,

The guilt of killing a man.