I found this poem among my long forgotten archive. I wrote it a few years ago, and would love to see what you guys think of my style back then.
My Ignominy was my love.
Brand me with thy mark,
That scorching burn that eternally stains
A heart devoted to a love afar
Unrequited and forever denied.
I have spent a lifetime of humiliation
Among my kin, I was the traitor
I heard their voices haunting my ears
In disdain and contempt.
I was the banished.
I was the exiled.
All for one sin
The sin of love.
Wronged I announce,
I am wronged.
I am wronged into being,
A being other than honest truth
Wronged I am,
But my voice is void.
My eyes resolve to quiet tears,
But my tears burn, and turn to dust
Before they see the light of day
I shut me in my room,
My only refuge from your hating stares.
I mourn a love, I mourn a life,
And there my crying is allowed to break.
Damn you all,
Followers of an illusion of a mask.
Your Providence has scorned me
Your gods have condemned me…
Only because it was under their eyes
That I committed what I least regret.
You fools go tell them,
Go ask them of mine virtue,
And they shall speak none,
For I am no follower,
I am a deserter,
A blasphemer in your accord.
You faceless condemners of faith,
The waters reflect no more than a shadow,
Go seek eyes before you scowl in my face.
Go ask your gods to practice their mastery upon you,
I am no deserter,
I am no sinner,
I am no blasphemer.
With thy scorching mark I shall brand my bosom,
Proclaiming mine truth with a voice aloud.
I forever shall bear your penance,
Never vindicated of my crime,
My Ignominy is my love.