Righteous

[Regn]

Granted, I have about 7500 lines of scribbles written down over the past four years, but this is the second time that I have placed more effort into it. So I decided to share it in case anyone would enjoy it and possibly even get inspired. The first of effort I wrote is entirely too personal for me to post, because it pains me to read myself. This, on the other hand, is nothing of the sort. Perhaps, instead, it is a shared point of view. I was inspired by John Milton's Paradise Lost (The Argument) to write this, which is my own version of an argument. English is not my primary language, and old English is even stranger to me, but I am trying to intertwine it all as best I can to make the poem flow. No question marks have been added in this, even though an abundance of questions are being made. I expect no feedback. Although, should you want to comment, then it is your right to. I don't know how active I will be on this forum, but you'll never know.

How dare You call me sick of envy,
On a mountain plenty- looking down.
Thus cast me out to lonely linger,
And point your finger with a frown.

What is lust, if be not admiration;
An inspiration, to wish for better,
Not to fetter by the hearts of vain;
To be the same, and be together.

Are we to be renounced, who feel,
And will believe in so much more;
If not adore, and not be thankful,
For the pain enabled by our soars.

Are You the righteous, rich of bliss,
So quick to hit the faintest threat.
Selfish, taking debt in punishment;
To judge, and torment without regret.

A plan of better good, of me so ample-
Vile example, yet no granted question-
Nor direction: Sounds thus the Maker,
Our Creator, to not host self the lesson.

Am I to hold my tongue from speech,
To kneel beneath, as not your equal.
'Tis deceitful, not of I, but You,
And your view that makes me evil.