Sin

I wrote in the dark when I lost my will, surrendered for sin that I knew must kill, and for ignorance, arrogance, or anguished rage, I broke in the vault and loosened the cage. Now I write in the ash of burnt out dreams. Rivers of promise have shrunk now to streams. I begged not for help with word or with screams, and now my heart drifts where no love redeems. O! The plans that were laid, the dreams that were sought, the quest for the truth... it has been for naught. I was born in the light, why did I decide, to run with the shadows and learn how to hide? 26 February 2018