The Confessor of the Gods

They tell me their secrets,
they feed me their sins;
they come seeking solace
and the assurance that they
are not beyond redemption.

The gods transgress daily:
murders and betrayals,
lust and fornication;
sins as common and as
damning as shards
buried in the sand.

They leave me to my silence,
relieved to know that they are
no monsters, no creatures
of the murky swamps.
They leave me burdened
with their millstones,
free to sin some more.

I take it all in, swallow
the pain and digest it,
add it to the weight
of my screaming soul,
smiling at the thought
that life transformed us
into mortals, deluded with
grand ideas of uniqueness,
but traipsing mortals all along.

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