Tiger Please Rid Me of my Sin


  • iLuvPoetryJACOB
  • Poetry will always emerge out of the shadows of depression, shining like a star in the scarcity of light.

Tiger Please Rid Me of my Sin

Your majestic form cast a shadow on the ground,

white moonlight twinkling in your eyes,

the crystal pond unmoving, a reflection of the heavens.

The skies remain clear of intruders, no clouds to whiten the ebony.

Grass billowing and rippling in the warm midnight wind,

Natures breath, slow and rhythmic with sleep.

Your stance is quite venerable, with unmoving grace,

you stand above the unending beds of grass,

 looking on over the yonder with quiet wonder.

Eternity is enveloped in the folds of night, radiating from the auburn

of your fur, the stripeless fragments.

The stripes that label you as the majestic tiger are the slashes of the Devil’s claws,

in my mind, my sin trickling down your sides.

Sometimes I think, “If only I could see you stripeless for once, your fur clean of that black,

those rivulets of menacing ebony.”

But the sin is part of what makes you who you are,

scars of wisdom on your beautiful soul.


And now the wind is no longer a mere swishing of late night air;

it is the longing whispers of next morning, which now lay

spread-eagled on the other side of Earth, yearning to tickle

the dew-sprinkled grass, smother it in its buttery warmth.

The tiger knows this as he stands, that the mornings of twittering birds,

the warmth of the rising sun, the shafts of sunlight through the tree branches

will come once again, and so shall his nights of peaceful thought.

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WordSlinger commented on Tiger Please Rid Me of my Sin


This is amazing, thanks for posting for sure, awesome, ty WS



Thank you so much. Oh and thank you again for the friend request.

Hampton commented on Tiger Please Rid Me of my Sin


A well written poetic creation. Fluid as soft silk and filled with metaphoric visualization that captivates.



thank you....

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

iLuvPoetryJACOB’s Poems (51)

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Looking at my Rain Spattered Window 3
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Tiger Please Rid Me of my Sin 2
Mom and Dad 2
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