I am the one building my house upon the sand.
I am the one blind and leading the blind.
I am the one rich and exceedingly sorrowful.
I am the one making a vow I will not fulfill.
I am the one unable to cast the first stone.
I am the one bringing the head of John the Baptist.
I am the one selling my wares in the Temple.
I am the one giving the kiss of betrayal.
I am the one bearing false witness, spitting in His face.
I am the one with the angry crowd crying, "Crucify Him!"
I am the one standing at the foot of the cross.
I am the one almost persuaded.
Bearing false witness, may or may not, condemn the accused
But would, unquestionably, condemn the soul of the accuser!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 August 2020
By darkness I trolled
in my oft-shedding skin
Hidden alleys I roamed
for new victims at whim
But at last I must face
the deception I’ve wrought
And repay every memory
that festers and rots
As my twisted rebellion
turns its anger within
No forgive or forgetting
or my blaming the gin
In the few moments left
as I slither and weave
Still bearing false witness
against those I’ve deceived
My venom gets swallowed
death final and small
With the light I once blocked
—casting shame on it all
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
By darkness I trolled
in my oft-shedding skin
Hidden alleys I roamed
for new victims at whim
But at last I must face
the deception I’ve wrought
And repay every memory
that festers and rots
As my twisted rebellion
turns its anger within
No forgive or forgetting
or my blaming the gin
In the few moments left
as I slither and weave
Still bearing false witness
against those I’ve deceived
My venom gets swallowed
death final and small
With the light I once blocked
—casting shame on it all
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Pretending to be the pure an innocent,
a viper the mask hides.
In the absence of those to defending themselves,
the more vigorously it swears.
Those that show too credulous favor to listen,
instead of being careful, to insist on sound validation.
No elixir or spell can cure,
only truly depends on first loving themselves.
7/19/2017
By darkness I trolled,
in my oft-shedding skin
Hidden alleys I roamed,
for new victims at whim
But at last I must face
the deception I’ve wrought
And relive every memory,
that festers and rots
As the truth in rebellion,
turns its anger within
No forgive or forgetting,
or my blaming the gin
In the few moments left,
as I slither and weave
Still bearing false witness,
against those I’ve deceived
My venom gets swallowed,
death final and small
With the light I once blocked,
casting shame on it all
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
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