Sin Poem by the small one

Stop and listen.
Can you hear it?
Don't lie yourself- of course you can!
Its him-
-he, who whispers in your brain.
He owns you - accept it
it's that plain;
Now you feel it
all the pain,
blood thickening in your vein,
that scary secret
coming down on you, like rain,
buried inside for years
now you ain't no saint!
its all out!
visible! Like black paint
-on white canvas;
it's him, who hunts us,
makes us pay
for everything we did today.

So listen again
hear him say
'You wont get with this away! '
To make him silent?
Run! Scream if you may.
Or try to pray!
They say god takes it all away.

Oh, but you believe that church is treason,
keep explaining it with reason.
That's why all you got now is what you see;
Nothing!
Just darkness and misery.