Confessions

If I couldn’t be what I want to be,
for all the wasted years of my life.

In the tryst to find compassion,
lost my pride,
lost my soul.

Can't call myself stronger,
because I followed the wrong path.

ventured into the dungeons,
where a firm step is non-existent.
The marshy surface submerges
and relieves my restraint self.

My mind is that of a man,
the strive to do everything.
Losing my mind,
enclosed in a shell now.

Unbreakable.
Effervescent once it was.
pain and despair were
non-existent.

I lived for myself,
careless to the world outside.

But look at what I have become?
I lie.
I cry.
I share with everyone but myself.
I live in the guilt of my past.
And in the anticipation for what future holds.

Of all the sins,
from the past and the present.

Of the loathe from all the broken hearts
and betrayals.

I vouched
never to attract pathos,
ready to make myself a sinner,
in the eyes of the beholder

I severed my soul again,
and then lost it again.

Strolling aimlessly
midst the lonesome streets
of my own creation.

All attempts to refurbish
the image that I once had,
futile.

I have become
what I never imagined myself to be.

I am a void.
A principled person to
an ignominy.

Thought my dreams could fly without wings.
Could flow like blood without veins.

The eyes those were wild with fire,
look doused.

Ashes of despair
leaving me distraught.

If I could end this life
with less pain,
I couldn’t be more blessed
But if I die,
I would donate my eyes
and my heart.

Because the picture of my loved ones
live in them.
The purest of the heart that still loves
needs a toughest of the mind.

A mind that could be practical,
and not waste its time
in thoughts reminiscent of the past.

A mind that wasted more beats than the heart
thinking and beholding the future
which lay ahead.