Fog

Many of us hide our pains.This is a person's secret confession of a murder he committed to become successful. He wants to suffer every day to reduce guilt, through his mirror.

We all have secrets, don't we?

The secrets which unlock our soul,

The mirror, It's a portal, it's the key,

Shows my spirit, Black as coal.

But why mist, why do you block?

Let me see the scars so deep.

Why mist, my devils you lock?

These wounds, are just mine to keep.

I still remember, the day I sold,

My character, and went on the path of success,

I had suffered in hunger, I had felt the cold,

My body, had ached, had seen distress.

I still remember my first, last sin.

I still have the guilt preserved.

The grave deed, invisible to my kin,

That murder occupies a space reserved.

But I had no choice, I have an appetite.

I had to feed myself, Food I deserved,

Though that was a crime, not my right.

All this doesn't matter now,

I love the sweet pain,

O mirror, I have to bow,

For seeing you, is wound getting rain.

I love it when I can't meet my eyes,

I love it everytime my conscience dies,

I love it when my reflection mocks back,

I love it when any strength I lack.

I love it when I fall down,

I love wearing everyday, the grand pain gown.

But that is how life occurs,

Isn't it? I can easily see.

As time goes on, only age deters,

Pain stays, Can't run away,as lame as a tree.

You mirror, provide some relief,

We all have secrets, don't we?