silent pains, carried within
and all because of the secret sins
which, hiding, we chafe and deny
and live forever the loneliest lies
and the ice-hard frosts describe
the raging denial felt deep inside
when at the end of the day the wheel turns
and at the day of the turn, the yearning burns;
where is the brightness, the lightness
the peace that comes with the promise?
and the light of love to lighten the burden
drawn now forever beyond the curtain
of night-pock’d stars.
with violence and rage to shame Mars
himself, or beauty and bliss the envy of elves,
the intoxication of self blinds self
and selfishness and self-love,
the wolfish lust that burns the blood,
has no other cure than this:
pain beyond all understanding, unhidden sins,
while giving up the serpent’s kiss.
As for transgressions, who will understand them? From my secret sins cleanse me, and from those of others spare Thy servant. If they have not dominion over me, then blameless shall I be, and I shall be cleansed from great sin. And the sayings of my mouth shall be unto Thy good pleasure, and the meditation of my heart shall be before Thee for ever, O Lord, my helper and redeemer. (Psalm 18, LXX)