I had planned for this poem to be kept private (when it was long ago written) but I guess it is much easier to understand my problems when I share them with others. Tell me what you think.

And I do not hope to turn,
I do not hope to turn again.
I am burdened with my flesh,
I am aware of my pain.
And I do not hope to turn,
Though in the silence of my night,
The sinful whisper taints my ears,
I will resist and fight.
Though in my mirror I see,
A reflection that fills me with fright,
I can still see a light.
And I do not hope to turn,
No I will never turn again,
Although sometimes I feel isane,
As my suffering grabs me and my plight,
I will not fall again,
And be the servant of my own temptation,
I will not fall again,
In the pit of darkness,
That burns my veins.
And sickens my heart and sight.
Though the horror of my deeds,
Showed me what remained of me,
And the illness of my needs,
Had demolished my entirety,
I will not turn again.
I pray that I will not turn again,
To the path of pain,
That temporarily led my life.

Note: I think I borrowed some lines from Ash Wednesday by T.S Eliot but I'm not sure if they were exactly the ones, they sort of popped in my mind the moment I started writing.

I liked it, sounds powerful.
but the ending could've been more powerful.
overall nice work. deep:)

Thanks Phat...