A Little Girl Just Four

This is a poem I wrote about a year ago. It might sound a little weird at first, but I think when you realize what I'm talking about, it'll make more sense.

A little girl just four,
Quietly reading a book.
Laughing, playing, caring
So innocent, so lovable.
She grows
Every look, every glance;
Motion, dead and act,
Cursed.
Yelling hatred.
Trampling, tramping.
No thanks from this girl
No love, no caring
Just hate, hate, hate.
Her heart
So bent on control.
Direction is hers.
Happiness is hers.
She's found her love.
She is complete.
Complete in destruction.
Every drop of rain,
So plenishing to life's needs,
Are tears to this girl.
She licks and drinks them.
Happily she plays in the pools.
Pools of grief.
Pools of sorrow.
She delights in it's satisfaction.
She laughs at the rain,
Devouring its pain.
Uttering hate, even more.
Encompassed by sadness,
She loves it!
All the more hate, is
All the more happiness.

Where is the Justice?
A mockery of this she makes.
What Justice?
There is none.
She hates, she receives.
No Justice.
None, it has vanished.
Alas, this is her way.
Who is this girl?
Oh, why is Justice forgotten?
She is I, yet she is you.
She lives in you.
All day she's calling.
Emersed by pain,
Loving its harsh reality.
Enjoying its every sting.
She lives on.
Never to die.
Never to be justified.
Some say there's an end.
But is there?
For so long she torments.
For so long she is victorious.
Is there an end?
Is there an end?
Perhaps,
But never for us.
Not while we are living.
We must kill ourselves.
She must die within us.
Her-our happiness must end.
Or forever, with her, spend.


Just in case you took it the wrong way... I'm talking about the sinful nature inside us and how we have, in a way, bit the hand that feeds us. God has given us life, breath... and then we turn on Him, we neglect his love, we hate Him. The rain in the poem signifies the tears God is crying over his lost people, over the rebellious ones. The sinful self relishes in God's sorrow...sinning more and more, without care or caution. There seems as if there is no Justice. Like it is lost. Why should this girl, this sinful nature, go on without any just punishment? She torments us. The only way to get rid of her, is to kill her within ourselves. To essentially, kill ourselves and become a new man...one who is thankful and forever committed to the God that so graciously created us and adorned us with so many blessings. One weakpoint in the poem, something I failed to bring out... was I never really mentioned how there will be Justice one day. One day the wicked, those who never turn from their sinful selves and continue to neglect God's offer of life and love, will suffer the eternal consequences and join the pitiful millions of souls who never knew God. Another note: I portrayed our sinful self as a little girl... and later as a girl, to kind of emphasize, at first, how innocent and caring a little four year old girl is...and then show the transformation into a devilish girl. Anyway, kind of a depressing poem I know... I'm not much for depression, but I think I did a pretty good job of showing the wretchedness of our sinful state... and the dire need to rid ourselves of it.