Guilty

Guilty
Warwick Allen
Saturday, 1 November 1997

[Verse 1]
As I wallow
In my pit
Of self-pity,
I search for causes, reasons, excuses.
I look around
For somewhere
To lay the blame.
But no matter where I look, or how hard,

[Refrain]
The only guilty party
I find
Is me.

[Verse 2]
And no defence
Do I have
To call upon,
For who would defend one as guilty as I?
The prosecutor
Is emboldened
By the silent jeers
From the gallery made up of those who care.

[Refrain]
The prosecutor,
It seems,
Is me.

[Verse 3]
No jury
Is required here;
The verdict
Of this case is all too clear.
The sentence,
Which I await,
Will be, I fear,
A life not fulfilled, a potential never reached.

[Coda]
But I wait,
For time
Will judge.

Analysis of Guilty

The contemporary poem “Guilty” is an exploration of self-recrimination through the extended metaphor of judicial proceedings. The work presents a psychological landscape wherein the speaker exists simultaneously as defendant, prosecutor, and judge within an internalised courtroom of conscience.

Structure and Form

The poem's structure mirrors the progression of a legal case, from initial investigation (“I search for causes, reasons, excuses”) through prosecution and ultimately to the anticipation of sentencing. This architectural framework is reinforced by the poem's fragmented presentation, with short, uneven lines that create pauses reminiscent of hesitant testimony or the measured delivery of legal argument. The poet employs enjambment strategically, particularly in the opening stanza where “I look around / For somewhere / To lay the blame” physically enacts the searching movement described within the text.

The Judicial Metaphor

The central conceit transforms personal guilt into a formal legal proceeding, yet this metaphor reveals its own limitations and ironies. Traditional jurisprudence requires separation of roles—prosecutor, defendant, judge, and jury—yet here these functions collapse into a single consciousness. This convergence suggests the impossibility of fair self-assessment and the tyranny of unchecked self-criticism. The speaker notes that “No jury / Is required here,” indicating a process that has abandoned the safeguards of objective judgment.

The “gallery made up of those who care” introduces an additional layer of complexity, suggesting that genuine concern from others is perceived as condemnation. This distortion of perspective reveals the speaker's psychological state, wherein support is reinterpreted as judgment, and care becomes indistinguishable from prosecution.

Language and Tone

The diction throughout maintains a formal, legal register that contrasts sharply with the emotional vulnerability of the content. Terms such as “guilty party,” “defence,” “prosecutor,” “verdict,” and “sentence” create semantic consistency whilst ironically highlighting the speaker's inability to escape the framework of condemnation. The repetition of “me” as both subject and object (“The prosecutor... Is me”) emphasises the circular, inescapable nature of self-blame.

The poem's tone shifts from active searching to passive resignation, culminating in the final stanza's acceptance of temporal judgment. This progression mirrors the movement from agency to helplessness that characterises severe self-criticism.

Temporal Dimensions

Time functions as both tormentor and potential saviour within the text. The speaker anticipates “A life not fulfilled, a potential never reached”—a sentence that stretches across the entirety of existence. Yet the final lines introduce the possibility of redemption through time's judgment, suggesting that temporal distance might offer the objectivity that immediate self-assessment cannot provide.

Psychological Realism

The poem's strength lies in its authentic portrayal of depressive self-condemnation. The speaker's inability to locate external blame, despite searching “no matter where I look, or how hard,” reflects the self-defeating patterns of thought characteristic of clinical depression. The work avoids sentimentality by maintaining its legal framework, even as it reveals the irrationality of applying judicial logic to matters of self-worth.

Conclusion

“Guilty” succeeds as both a psychological portrait and a critique of self-judgment. Through its sustained metaphor, the poem reveals how the architecture of formal justice, when internalised, becomes a mechanism of self-torture rather than truth-seeking. The work's final gesture towards time as judge offers a subtle suggestion that healing might require the external perspective that the speaker's internal court cannot provide. The poem stands as a compelling examination of how consciousness, when turned entirely inward, can become both prison and prisoner.

Broken Glass

Broken Glass
Warwick Allen
Wednesday, 1 October 1997

I am given silver
But I want pewter

I have gold but yet
I yearn for brass

And quartz it seems I prefer
To my diamonds with their glitter

And all my pearls I forgot
As I long for a piece of broken glass

Fire

Fire
Warwick Allen
Sunday, 28 September 1997

There is a spark in the cold night
I ignore it
It is harmless

Again, there is a spark in the cold night
Again, I ignore it
It is harmless

And all across the landscape
So rich, abundant, full of life
Yet strangely empty

Sparks occur and sparks go out
For the most part
They are harmless

But occasionally a spark will catch alight
And a flame will arise and feed on
The living landscape

This flame offers some hope
Of warmth in the coldness
I am drawn to it

The flame, however, is feeble and unfaithful
To its promise of comfort
It is only a tease

And the life it feeds on is precious to me
It causes me pain
As it burns

This flame, furthermore, has arisen
In a dangerous place, a place where
Fire must not be

For an unstoppable inferno it could become
And those things that are precious to me
It would destroy

I must kill the flame, but I can't
It has me hypnotised with its colours dancing before me
Just out of reach

And its promise of warmth
Although so unreliable
Keeps me hoping

I know, somewhere deep within my consciousness
That this flame will wither and die as have
Hundreds before

I long to break free from the spell
But
Its hold is too strong

Flying High

Flying High
Warwick Allen
Saturday, 30 August 1997

[Verse 1]
The eagle it soars, with such might
Above the clouds in noble flight
And it does, from that lofty height
To the ground below cast its sight

[Verse 2]
On the creatures down low it stares
With scorn and derision it sneers
To itself and what ever hears
And with bitter contempt declares:

[Verse 3]
“Shame to all those birds low flying
Sparrows, finches, all those choosing
Low to stay, near the ground to sing
And never actually trying

[Verse 4]
“For if their wings they would bother
To stretch that little bit wider
Set their sights a little higher
And try that little bit harder

[Chorus 1]
“They too might know
The glory and the majesty
Of flying high

[Verse 5]
“'Twas not without effort that I
Managed to climb so very high
My wings I did spread wide, and my
Sights I did set high in the sky

[Chorus 2]
“It's through my own efforts that I know
The glory and the majesty
Of flying high

[Verse 6]
“As for those creatures who must stay
On the earth forever as they
Have no feathers, no wings, no way
Of flying. Pity them, I say

[Verse 7]
“But it's the ground fowl I can't stand
He has wings, as I understand
Feathers too, but he dwells on land
Not in the sky, so high and grand

[Verse 8]
“Why does he choose this way to live
When the blue skies he could have if
His wings he would flap, and then, with
Some effort, the skies would be his

[Chorus 3]
“And then he too might know
The glory and the majesty
Of flying high

[Verse 9]
“But no, he makes a decision
To live in humiliation
And shame; an abomination
To all the birds of creation

[Coda]
“If only he tried
Oh, how I loathe the ground fowl.”

Sonnet of the Stone

Sonnet of the Stone
Warwick Allen
Friday, 22 August 1997

[Stanza 1]
The weight of the stone, around my heart bound
Is not enough to pull me under, but
Just enough for the chains, my soul to cut
And the load to keep my dreams on the ground.
Sometimes I stand tall, my strength I have found,
But often strength I've none, I'm in a rut,
I long for a haven, a lonely hut
Where, onto a page, my fears and doubts mound.

[Stanza 2]
From this safe place, I cry my forlorn plea
To my Lord, I ask Him to take the stone.
He hears, but He is teaching me to wait.
He wants to use me, now He's moulding me,
Yet He still lets me know I'm not alone,
And from my shoulders He will lift the weight.

In the Fats

In the Fats
Warwick Allen
Thursday, 14 August 1997

Who said that this would happen?
Who dictated that life would
Become as it had once been?

This is not what is written for me
In the Book
I am more
Well, I can be more
Than this

I am somebody
More than that
I am a child of God
A servant of the Almighty

He has plans for me
This I must remember
Always

Gratitude

Gratitude
Warwick Allen
Friday, 1 August 1997

[Verse 1]
What have You done for me?
Merely given me a life worth living,
Shown me love to which none can compare,
A hope of a future, amazing and exciting.
You've given me this, for free.

[Chorus 1]
Should I be grateful?
Should I show it?
Should I fervently praise You,
And proclaim Your name to the ends of the earth?

[Verse 2]
After all, You only sent Your Son
To die in sheer agony,
To be cut off from Your love,
To be crushed by the weight of my sin,
So that I might know You, and live.

[Chorus 2]
You'd think I'd be grateful.
You'd think I'd want to show it.
You'd think I'd fervently praise You,
And proclaim Your name to the ends of the earth.

[Verse 3]
What act of gratitude would be worthy
To give thanks for what You have done?
Nothing, really, but I could make a start,
Such as giving You all that I have and all that I am,
And living Your will in all that I do.

[Chorus 3]
Father, I am grateful,
And I want to show it.
I shall fervently praise You,
And proclaim Your name to the ends of the earth.

[Verse 4]
If giving You my life and living Your will
Were the least that I could do,
You'd think that I'd manage that.
But no, I fail, I let You down.
Sometimes I think I'm more of a hindrance than a help to Your kingdom.

[Chorus 4]
Lord, I am grateful;
Help me to show it.
Teach me to fervently praise You,
And proclaim Your name to the ends of the earth.

[Verse 5]
Thank You, Father, for Your grace,
And for Your infinitely patient love.
Thank You that whenever I fall,
You catch me and comfort me with Your tender presence,
And You're always ready to forgive.

Amazing Man of God

Amazing Man of God
Warwick Allen
Friday, 1 August 1997

Lord, I want to serve You.
How I wish I were able,
And capable, and ready.
I know they say that it doesn't matter,
That You can use me anyway.
I guess that my feeble mind
Has trouble comprehending that fact.
Please, Lord,
Make me an “amazing man of God”.

Unreal Riddle

Unreal Riddle
Warwick Allen
Sunday, 8 June 1997


Original poem (1997)
I see writing on the wall
I want to taste the blood
But I know it's not real
Just my mind playing cruel games
But these games themselves
Cause the blood to be real
I think, I don't know

The blood is not there
I painted the picture myself
With words I don't understand
On a wall that doesn't exist
And blood is on the wall
I think, I don't know

My very thoughts give the wall substance
And make the blood rich, warm, red: real
But the words are still a riddle
A riddle is a riddle
Even if formed in my own mind
Surely I can decipher it
I think, I don't know

The wall keeps me safe
Even if the writing scares me
The wall shelters me
From the cold wind of reality
I guess I want the wall
I built it
I think, I don't know

Maybe I didn't write the words
Or build the wall
But I must have
For the words confuse, the wall imprisons
Nobody else would harm me
Everything is imagined
I think, I think…



Song arrangement (2025)
[Verse 1]
I see writing on the wall;
In blood, fateful words are spelled.
But I know it's not real;
Just my mind plays games so cruel.
But these games, the games themselves,
Cause the blood to be real.

[Pre-chorus]
I think, I don't know

[Chorus]
Inked with blood that's not real,
I am the guilty artist.
And still, blood is on the wall,
A wall that does not exist.

[Verse 2]
It's my mental graffiti;
The words, surely, they are mine,
But their meaning I can't grasp.
It's my self-captivity;
This picture is my confine,
Heavy words that hold me fast.

[Pre-chorus]
I think, I don't know

[Chorus]
Inked with blood that's not real,
I am the guilty artist.
And still, blood is on the wall,
A wall that does not exist.

[Verse 3]
My thoughts give the wall substance,
And make the blood rich, warm, red.
The bleak words are a riddle,
A personal labyrinth,
Even if formed in my head.
I can know it a little.

[Pre-chorus]
I think, I don't know

[Chorus]
Inked with blood that's not real,
I am the guilty artist.
And still, blood is on the wall,
A wall that does not exist.

[Verse 4]
And the wall forms my safehold,
But still the writing scares me.
Was this really my choice here?
The wall shelters me from cold
Harsh wind of reality.
I built the wall, my cloister.

[Pre-chorus]
I think, I don't know

[Chorus]
Inked with blood that's not real,
I am the guilty artist.
And still, blood is on the wall,
A wall that does not exist.

[Verse 5]
Could it really be me who's
Written those dread words that haunt
On the wall that imprisons?
The wall restrains, words confuse;
Only I'd capture and taunt.
Everything is imagined.

[Pre-chorus]
I think, I don't know

[Chorus]
Inked with blood that's not real,
I am the guilty artist.
And still, blood is on the wall,
A wall that does not exist.

[Outro]
I don't know, I don't know, oh
I think, I think
I think, I think
I think…

Analysis of Unreal Riddle (song arrangement)

Introduction

"Unreal Riddle" presents an exploration of psychological confinement and the paradoxical nature of self-constructed mental prisons. The song operates as a metaphysical meditation on the relationship between perception, reality, and personal agency, employing the central metaphor of blood-written words upon an imaginary wall to examine themes of guilt, isolation, and epistemic uncertainty.

Central Metaphor and Symbolism

The dominant metaphor of the wall inscribed with blood serves multiple symbolic functions throughout the piece. The wall represents psychological barriers—both protective and imprisoning—that the speaker has constructed within their own mind. The blood, repeatedly emphasised as "not real" yet paradoxically present, embodies the complex relationship between imagined and experienced trauma. This duality reflects the genuine psychological impact of mental constructs, even when recognised as illusory.

The phrase "writing on the wall" invokes biblical connotations of divine judgment and prophecy, yet here it becomes deeply personal and self-authored. The speaker's identification as the "guilty artist" transforms them from passive recipient of judgment to active creator of their own psychological torment, raising questions about culpability and self-determination.

Structure and Repetition

The song's structure reinforces its thematic content through cyclical repetition. The recurring pre-chorus "I think, I don't know" encapsulates the speaker's epistemic crisis—the fundamental uncertainty about their own mental processes and agency. This phrase becomes increasingly significant as it appears throughout, suggesting a mind caught between rational analysis and emotional confusion.

The repetitive nature of the chorus creates a sense of being trapped within a loop, mirroring the psychological imprisonment described in the lyrics. The escalating repetition in the outro ("I think, I think…") suggests either mounting anxiety or the mechanical nature of obsessive thought patterns.

Progression of Self-Understanding

The five verses trace a journey of gradual, though incomplete, self-awareness. The progression moves from initial confusion ("their meaning I can't grasp") through growing recognition of personal responsibility ("I built the wall, my cloister") to final questioning of agency ("Could it really be me who's written those dread words?").

This arc reflects the complex process of psychological insight, where understanding one's role in creating mental suffering doesn't necessarily lead to liberation from it. The speaker's growing awareness paradoxically increases their uncertainty, suggesting that self-knowledge can be as imprisoning as ignorance.

Language and Tone

The vocabulary choices create a gothic, almost medieval atmosphere through words like "cloister," "confine," and "captivity." This linguistic register elevates the speaker's internal struggle to the level of epic or religious drama, whilst simultaneously suggesting monastic isolation and penitential suffering.

The juxtaposition of concrete imagery ("blood," "wall," "words") with assertions of unreality creates cognitive dissonance that mirrors the speaker's psychological state. This tension between the tangible and intangible reflects broader philosophical questions about the nature of mental experience.

Themes of Agency and Responsibility

Central to the song is the paradox of self-authored suffering. The speaker simultaneously claims authorship ("I am the guilty artist") and questions their agency ("Was this really my choice here?"). This reflects the complex relationship between conscious will and psychological compulsion, particularly relevant to understanding depression, anxiety, and other mental health conditions where individuals may feel responsible for thoughts and feelings beyond their direct control.

The wall's dual nature—as both "safehold" and prison—illustrates how psychological defences can become self-defeating. The protection from the "harsh wind of reality" comes at the cost of genuine freedom, suggesting the difficult balance between necessary psychological boundaries and self-imposed limitations.

Philosophical Implications

The song engages with fundamental questions about the nature of reality and mental experience. The assertion that imagined constructs can have real effects ("My thoughts give the wall substance") touches on phenomenological philosophy and the reality of subjective experience. The speaker's situation exemplifies how mental constructs, even when recognised as constructs, retain their power to affect behaviour and emotion.

Conclusion

"Unreal Riddle" succeeds as both a psychological portrait and philosophical meditation. Its strength lies in its refusal to offer simple resolutions to complex mental states. The speaker's journey towards self-understanding doesn't culminate in liberation but in deeper recognition of their paradoxical situation. The song's power derives from its honest depiction of how self-awareness can coexist with continued psychological entrapment, making it a particularly nuanced exploration of mental imprisonment and the elusive nature of personal freedom.

The work ultimately suggests that understanding the mechanisms of our psychological prisons may be a necessary first step towards freedom, even if that understanding doesn't immediately provide the key to escape. In this way, the "riddle" of the title remains appropriately unsolved, reflecting the ongoing nature of psychological struggle and self-discovery.

Chains of Sorrow

Chains of Sorrow
Warwick Allen
Monday, 19 May 1997

[Verse 1]
Why so downcast, oh my soul?
Do thou knowest not
Joy is thine to hold?

[Verse 2]
Needlessly you ache
You wear the coat of despair
But it is warm, no coat is needed

[Verse 3]
Joy for you was bought
At the price of innocent blood
Shed upon a cross

[Verse 4]
Do you not know
That you deny His blood
By holding on to sorrow?

[Chorus 1]
For sorrow is the devil's tool
And melancholy Satan's friend

[Verse 5]
“Cast away your woes
And lay them upon Me”
My saviour says

[Verse 6]
Oh, but were it that easy
I hold my sadness tight
In a fist that I can't open

[Chorus 2]
For sorrow is my drug
And time my needle

[Bridge]
How soothing it is here
Where a slice of fantasy breaks through the reality
And reality into the fantasy

[Verse 7]
Still I am aware
That the moment is but fleeting
—A sigh among the screams

[Verse 8]
I wish the needle would be broken
But I'm not ready for that
I need a new drug

Analysis of Chains of Sorrow Lyrics

Thematic Architecture and Spiritual Dialectic

"Chains of Sorrow" presents a sophisticated exploration of the tension between Christian theology and psychological reality, structured as a dialogue between faith and despair. The lyrical persona engages in what might be termed a "theodicy of the soul"—questioning not God's justice in allowing suffering, but rather the individual's complicity in perpetuating their own spiritual and emotional torment.

Linguistic Register and Biblical Resonance

The opening verses employ deliberately archaic diction ("Do thou knowest not," "Joy is thine to hold") that immediately establishes a biblical register, evoking the Psalms' characteristic self-interrogation (c.f. Psalm 43). This linguistic choice creates semantic distance between the speaker and their contemporary suffering, suggesting an attempt to frame personal anguish within established religious discourse. The shift from archaic to modern vernacular as the song progresses mirrors the movement from theological abstraction to psychological immediacy.

Metaphorical Structures: Clothing, Commerce, and Chemistry

The lyrical architecture relies on three primary metaphorical systems. The clothing metaphor ("coat of despair") suggests depression as something worn but removable, whilst the commercial imagery ("bought," "price of innocent blood") frames salvation within transactional terms that ultimately prove insufficient for the speaker's emotional reality. Most significantly, the drug metaphor transforms abstract sorrow into concrete addiction, with "time my needle" representing a particularly striking image of temporal entrapment.

Structural Irony and Theological Paradox

The song's greatest literary achievement lies in its structural irony. Whilst early verses present orthodox Christian solutions to despair, the speaker simultaneously demonstrates their inability to accept these remedies. The line "Oh, but were it that easy" serves as the poem's emotional fulcrum, acknowledging the gap between intellectual assent and experiential transformation. This creates a theological paradox: the speaker believes in grace whilst remaining unable to receive it.

The Bridge as Liminal Space

The bridge section functions as both formal and thematic transition, representing what anthropologists term "liminal space"—the threshold between states of being. The imagery of fantasy and reality interpenetrating suggests dissociation or escapism, yet the speaker's awareness that "the moment is but fleeting" prevents complete retreat from consciousness. This section demonstrates remarkable psychological sophistication in depicting the temporary reprieve that fantasy provides from overwhelming reality.

Conclusion: Addiction as Spiritual Metaphor

The final verses' equation of sorrow with addiction represents more than mere metaphor—it suggests that emotional patterns can exhibit the same compulsive, self-destructive characteristics as substance dependency. The closing admission "I need a new drug" indicates awareness without capacity for change, positioning the speaker in what recovery literature terms "pre-contemplative" stage. The song thus achieves its literary power not through resolution but through honest depiction of spiritual and psychological stasis.

The work's enduring resonance lies in its refusal to provide easy answers to complex emotional realities, instead offering what Keats termed "negative capability"—the ability to remain in uncertainty and doubt without irritably reaching after fact and reason.

Easter Joy

Easter Joy
Warwick Allen
Wednesday, 29 March 1997


Original poem (1997)
O rejoice, all you peoples of the Earth!
Rejoice, for the Lord is with us,
And God is among us,
And Immanuel is His name.

For unto us He was given,
And for our sake He was slain;
That God's love shan't be hidden,
He suffered our pain.

But our Lord, He is risen;
His glory we shall proclaim.

O rejoice, all you peoples of the Earth!
Rejoice, for the Lord is with us,
And God is among us,
And Jesus is His name.



Song arrangement, with an added verse and pre-chorus (2025)
[Chorus 1]
O rejoice, all you peoples of the Earth!
Rejoice, for the Lord is with us,
And God is among us,
And Immanuel is His name.

[Verse 1]
For unto us He was given,
And for our sake He was slain;
That God's love shan't be hidden,
He suffered our pain.

[Chorus 2]
O rejoice, all you peoples of the Earth!
Rejoice, for the Lord is with us,
And God is among us,
And Immanuel is His name.

[Verse 2]
Equal with God, was His due
But He came down, became man
His rights He chose to eschew
Obediently bore our shame

[Pre-Chorus]
But our Lord, He is risen,
And the Name He is given,
It's above every name.
His glory we shall proclaim!

[Chorus 3]
O rejoice, all you peoples of the Earth!
Rejoice, for the Lord is with us,
And God is among us,
And Jesus is His name.

[Outro]
Jesus is His name.