I am old and broken. Scared and tired;

Of existence and vastness of my own feeble mind.

Grand sunrises and pitiful sunsets,

All bargains that was left far behind…



I am lost and shattered. Voiceless and pale,

In unforgiving universe behind a rainbow bridge,

Amazing black stars and violent eternity,

Bereaved of emotions and coherent speech…



Forgetting and forgiving. Regretting and moulding.

I was. I will be…I am.


Longing. It’s a worst punishment. Not even agony.

Just slow burn…

Hopping – frail medicine prolonging bleeding,

Taking its turn…


For every deed – my own reciprocation –

My life’s, my soul’s, my heart’s damnation.

The desert of a broken being.

The ocean of an unclear suspect.

I have you know – I am still healing,

I have you know – I won’t stay dead!

For every lie that leaves your palace

For every myth I’m breathing in –

I’ll pay in magnitudes of hatred,

That won’t be bottled up within.

I chose, and choice was of a child;

Of a creation that was blindly neat.

It burned and tortured for a while,

One day it stopped. It reached its peak.


I am sagacious and psychotic;

All tricks, and masks, and aces up my sleeves.

So bored, so calm, so nervous and exotic –

The demon crawls on broken knees.


Regardless of my story wording my features morphing slow;

I cannot catch if words I say unfazed you,

I cannot swear it’s not just for a show.


I am an animal in binding.

I am so human, cut off from my worth.

The scars on skin still raw and binding;

I guess my sin was my own birth.


However, I am made of fire.

There’s stubborn itching in my veins.

What I deserve I will endure. My ire

Will crush the ill put, vile reins.


I am of mortal’s indecision. I am of God’s rebel.

The opportunity has risen…

This is my Gospel.

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