Today I incriminate myself , like the bloody hands of a murderer!
I look through the eyes of death and see a deceased heart bleeding with a constant supported pumping.
To them, whose hearts were invisible to me ; are perhaps stopped by me ,
I am a god fearing human , with a pot full of sins ready to drown me.
I, because , had two voices , where the devious was unknown ,
And the divine voice roamed in the garden’s of their hearts.
Now I am pulled back to the extinct days which has casted its shadow on my instants ,
My present stands with an empty stained hand hereby.
Still celebrating the years ahead , to wash that blood in my hand ,
And let my heart blossom the bleeding hearts ,to bring them to healing again.