Bent

I miss me.

In a light composite of shadows, my thoughts dwell deep inside my mind, flowing through my eyes. I look forward and I can see nothing but my past. In a few seconds I come across everything I had forgotten. So many fires provoked, so much ash blown against my own wind... My bare hands seek that world they once built, but they can't feel it anymore. I can't feel it anymore. Everything has transposed from then to now. Every good deed has had its echo, every sin got my conscience off-balance. Good deeds are multiply-able. Sins are confess-able. But I doubt the right way is kneeling against your God or your god.