Remorse Poem by ARSHIA KATYAL

It lies ahead,
Of course.
Among others, I am afraid,
Remorse?

The feeling of penance is brewing,
Scarring the unknown of my conscience.
Gravity; still twirling,
Weighing me for all of my cents.

Wouldn't or would it,
Allow me to come up for air
To make up for all the sins?
For me to care?

Unraveling a pain within me,
Will my audacious attempt to recover
Accustom miscalculated amends?

Or will my journey to see through,
To grow up and grow old,
Die with hollow cries and hew
Anything that I unfold?

Allow me to say,
I sinned and I hurt.
But I cried and I tried.
If that's not enough, will everything I now on forth do, subvert?