“An Entity of Vice” by Imaan Siddiq

An Entity of Vice

Who is it,

That I regretfully consist of?

Is it a numbing thought,

In the insanity?

Or a foreign voice,

Calling for help?

Is it a heart of empathy,

Or the repentance of past sins?

Is it the lack of emotion,

Or an influx of grief?


A pang of guilt,

Like a tumor infecting the senses.

Is it an entity of humanity,

Or a singularity in the chaos?

Is it the weakness,

That causes the body to paralyze?

Or the prolonged suffering,

Of a concluding sense of inadequacy?


A hand without warmth.

A heart that beats without effect.

And an existence without reason.

What is it that I have done?

What is it that I have left behind?

Is it the contentment of humanity?

Or the vice of apathy?

Am I a symphony among the chords,

Or the silence before the mayhem?

Am I the black in the grey,

Or the sustenance of white?

Am I the consequence of virtue,

Or the resolution of a sin?

Am I the existence of a mistake,

Or a sigh of relief?


Am I a hand of warmth?

Or a painting of lost colors?

Like a wandering pigment,

In the art of survival.

For I am an entity of vice,

A soul sold to the undergrowth,

Lost in the silence of disbelief.

– Imaan Siddiq



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