Sans logique

If God made us in his image
If it was his will
He should have taken offense
At the evil poorly inhabited
That sneaks in and shares
The immaculate innocence
Of my soul of a wise child
I would like to understand

Of this paradox
I am not an accomplice
Allow another
To slip into me
Because without logic
I leave myself
As much satanic
As angelic

If every time in chattering
We let ourselves drift
I believe that from heritage
My silence is deadly
You discover me pallid
Fixed to your eyes so tender
I could inadvertently
With scissors cut them

Of this paradox
I am not an accomplice
Allow another
To slip into me
Because without logic
I leave myself
As much satanic
As angelic...