Still
betrayal is mischievous,
a thief of trust, and a loser for hopefuls,
to lose a soul, but to gain a soulmate
and to hold a familiar existence
yet again, you will die from your own fate
i lost myself when i found whom,
to kneel down for God's mercy
to find myself in the midst
of someone's recognition—
i may found me in him,
through Him
as tragic as it seems to be,
i would rather pray for his forgiveness
than for me, not because i am the ideal
but as a woman that would use
every parts of me
to let him know God
for God to let him be forgiven
i may be unsure for the longing
of seeking a soul,
to bury your wholeness, to know
my identity for the nth time
to know God again
to kneel down
even if it takes my soul to decay again—
even if it takes to plead for Him to find my soulless self,
without seeking for another soul to tie
still,
to whisper a prayer—
not to ask a soul to embrace mine, Yahweh,
to let it sit with my silence,
but to let them find a place,
even if my absence
becomes the answer to that plea
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