Monday, 29 August 2011

this is the discretion, who steals my 
sleep, the same third eye, which 
makes me naked before the
mirror of life, the same hands which 
are aghast to reach my collar,
wants to know explanation,
that why I had returned the stretched 
arms of helpless child for a favor, 
this the same place where 
once I stumbled to
loyalty, betrayed to the bed room -
treaty, here somewhere the 
seeds of fraud, germinated under the 
floor, that's the place I have broken 
the trust, made the false interior 
ceiling above the altar of 
worship, that chandelier has the blow
off lamps, chants often the tale
of my pseudo character, this the place
where I had buried the beautiful
perception, humanism, 
inner beauty, love 
under the layer of squalor, mistakes 
the conscience still breathing, it's
alive, wants confession, 
a change, freedom from the sin, curse !
abomination by you would finish me,
just try to give me a chance to 
prove my indomitable 
desire to get the title of complete,
perfect man, regenerated, fully blessed,