Ash Tray

My ash tray is completely full. I've smoked all night. I feel guilt as I look at it. You know, it being the 21st century, I'm a fucking heathen! A blasphemer to the highest degree: no repose, for, the ash tray is full.
Although, I must say that I feel as if I have done something; If not only to fail.
fail at love.
fail at hope.
to fail, or to fill. To fill the ash try with burning embers?
You decide. I have no choice to you, I am a heathen.
Yet, I am happy. To have failed.
There is no greater place to be here... drunken as it may be.
Drunken: Heathen.
As qualified by whom?
To what assessment?
To conclusion.
And from what, book do you choose to make this judgment?
Who's eyes do you use to see? thy own?
Or mine.
Nay!
It tis thy ego!
Coxed by mother slashed by father.
A meandering painting. Colored by those who tell you to be how you are.
You are who, who you are.
Lost?
Find thy self, and may all those who have ears hear.
Break the mold; of that which you know not.
for yet, ye know not yourself.
And still the ash tray is full of spent embers. Dead to me as all of the world I can see, and understand. For , it has been built upon guilt, and the wall stand strong. The guilt was planted deep in JESUS name "AMEN."
Once a babe, a clean slate we were. Before the the brush stroke fell on a white canvas. The Canvas was you. The stroke? Our world.
We are tainted by the thoughts of those before us. Never given the chance to blow what we inherit. I am the meek and the king a like... Born of a womb.