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I am no saint when it comes to virtues
My vices kill me on every breath
As well as those who dare to reform
My unhinged soul , my wayward will
Yet in moments of deep reverie
I feel a Oneness with the Universe
The abode of the cherubs and the chaste
The debauch and the demoniacal alike
I wonder whether it is the vile and vicious in me
Which senses a resonance with the chaos in the cosmos
Or is it the shallow-breathing long-captivated angel
Asphyxiating somewhere deep within
Perhaps my saintliness lies in just being human
However, the fact of the matter remains that
Eternal is the residence of Saints and Satan both
On the fulcrum of the Consciousness Supreme
The degree lies in the tilt of the lever
And that's so simple, isn't it?
This poem is shared with Poet's United for the Midweek Motif : Saint/Saintliness
