Poor Sinner By Evans Ivan

Starring at the empty sky
cloudy, but nothing to tell
Standing at the edges,
rocky hills
And meandering streams.
The climb is tough
too cold to swim
I can’t take it anymore.

The chains are getting tighter,
The stomach is beating drums
head spinning wildly
legs can’t carry me anymore.

Feels like heaven is calling,
but am I guaranteed a heaven?
I might blindly follow fate
straight to eternal fire.
I am a believer,
but I’ve made mistakes tho.
Big mistakes,
for which I am being persecuted for
by bigger sinners.
I’m not judging,
not my place
I shan’t say anymore
I’m not a god.

The story of a poor sinner,
written on the beach sand
The sea came along to erase it
His legacy dies with him,
hidden in his broken pockets

By; Evans Ivan