Fondler of Souls

-Fondler of Souls-
by
Keaton Foster



Sometimes I wonder
Of those that I’ve touched
How do they manage
As I, the victimizer
Tears himself apart
The guilt that comes with
This right I am sure is mine
Is certainly horrendous
I persist because sadly
I know no difference
Standing naked and accused
The reflection won’t lie
It knows of all that I’ve done
Guilt riddled bones
Hold up this carcass
That I’ve always called home
God in Heaven above
Has forsaken me from the get
I was never meant to be one of his
The devil below, down in his hole
Thinks that I am far too cold
He wants no part of me
In between is where I reside
The faith of my life
Each sustainable beat
Every unbearable breath
The sum of a distant equation
Beyond all scope of understanding
Maybe after my death
People, victims in kind will decide
Maybe they will speak upon my behalf
Cursing every second of my existence
Screaming of their absolute hatred
But for now, as before, they remain silent
I am a fondler of souls
Few dare know
Victims turned silent statues
Waiting to be heard when the time is right
When their words will mean more than mine
When they alone have the power over me
I will not listen, but certainly all others will
What will be said will be as clear
As any poem ever penned…




Fondler of Souls
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012.