Zealot

What are these puppet strings that I pull?
No solace is given from this activity.
Weaving a narrative meant to be amplified.
But all I feel is my world divide.

Forget pollution that I forged.
My mind I want torched.
Cleansed of what I have wrought.
Lay me to rest or show me a way.
To prevent this abomination that I carved so excessively!

How do these chains fix an ounce I have done?
For I am the one who tore down our son.
Butchered innocents as they did sleep.
Smile at the expunging of peace.

Framed in a manner I don’t deserve.
My mind needs to be purged.
Cleansed of what I have wrought.
Lay me to rest or show me a way.
To undo these abominations I conjured fanatically!

Pierce this veil I fashioned.
Suffocate my lack of compassion.
Try to align me to a better route,
And if you can’t then give me the boot.
By sealing away this despicable me.
For you have now seen what I will enact most selfishly.