Guilt -The Daily Audit Poem by Lodigiana Poetess

How dark the trenchant night becomes
when overtaken by,
that unseen force that violates your thoughts.
Unprompted and gratuitous, that unspeaking voice
that murmurs immutably in your head…..
Pricking at morality we loosely term as ‘conscience'.
Let me sleep, my conscience's clear-I think and think again…..
But then a guilty conscience needs no accuser…
Revising actions of my day, am I so sure that in some way
I didn't compromised my inner ethics?
Did I succumb to seduction of much wilder dreams?
that whisper like the wind of black torment and
touch your ear, assaulting unprovoked, your integrity,
Scruples greet us at every bend,
calls on duty to defend….
Our conscience saves us from defeat,
makes us honest and complete,
but let it slip, you acquiesce diablerie and dereliction.
How does the conscience of the punisher rest?
Not easy on the pillow…
The soldier with blood on his hands
obeying blindly gruff commands.
This moral sense of right and wrong defines us as of human race.
My audit now complete, I find my compass thankfully in place.
This day for once was just, and right, and more than this was fair,
so time to sleep a peaceful sleep and know my conscience's clear.