Excuse me lord
Today I had to taste my shed,
Heavy as my head was I rose up
I went to my sanctuary at my while embracing my degrade,
I observed as my likes shoot out like olive shoots,
Why could I not pass this check?
Might it be that my burden is over my quall?
Might it be that I am so deep I have to dig the more and attempt to find a way on the other side?
Can I truly realise repentance or am I just goanna behold it at distance’s length?
Is it something attainable or is it just an ore set out to bring false hope to the undiscerning climber?
Can I truly realise solace?
Will I behold my pater’s warmth once again?
My ruin is too heavy for my tone in address,
I cannot ask for a second chance, for inherent in my very being is the devourer of chances.
I cannot ask for favour for my reality accommodates none
I cannot ask for solace for the very giver of peace is not at peace with me,
I guess all I can ask for is… forgiveness.
Excuse me lord.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem