First Poem: Remorse

-Preamble

Say ye about me in words of thine,

Of things done by the hands of mine.

Force I will not, those words to be confined.

The false is to be abandoned not remember'd.

-**-

What calamity it is which I've committed!

This wrongfulness to which I've submitted.

True, the mind at times is a trickster indeed.

Playing with the soul by the hands deed.

Act as I wish according to sin.

In the ways of arrogance did I play.

Haughtiness did come to win,

Against my purity, to my dismay.

Woe to me , what shall become of me?

Full of arrogance, haughty as I can be!

False pride of my mind has deceived me!

To be exposed of the reality of my stupidity-

-to think so highly, haughtily of my own intellect.

When, in fact, it is merely mediocre, plain, or defect.

Because of it, I've put my self in a throne like that of a king.

Condescending to others as if they are subjects, mere weakling.

But then haughtiness showed to me its true face.

That of a hag not that of a lovely face.

Scorned I am to fall as its prey.

Humiliated, to my dismay.

So friend, thou hast lend ears of thine

Now I offer to lend mine.

I seek of counsel from thee

I'll listen very carefully.