My Sins..

As I sit avoiding the chaos within,

And the noise trying to upset my thoughts,

The whisper that peeks in

There is a story spinning in my head

A story that seems to be real

Story with no theme–rheme.

The anarchy is so dense and deep

I fear it to be real,

It feels dark,

It feels vast,

From pillar to post the fiction spins.

My eyes are open wide,

There is life around me as I can feel,

As gust of air arrives to touches my skin,

And fades with a grim.

But there I am trapped,

Between the world, I belong and the world I am in.

And the story goes along,

With no end that I can think.

It’s the tale of the past,

It’s the tale of the future, yet to happen

It’s about the words I said,

It’s long and long,

Craved over a ream.

There are my weaknesses,

There are my strengths,

There are the moments I loved,

And what I have hidden,

My sins.