Sin

Sick, i choked in your grasp,
Not knowing whether i live or die
and when in admonition
i wipe the last remorseful tear from my eye
You are lurking somewhere
In the depth of my deceitful heart
i wish to wash my soul clean
And in the Blood find my essence
But when in a sunny day i dry up
You are there to show me summers
And beauties, forever enticing to my heart
Sin, is there a space without your breathe?
Where, my soul can rise again.

This skin

This skin is a curse
It’s a burden of untold sins
At home and elsewhere
It comes not without prejudice

I am dying under this skin
Silently aspiring to be free
But it remains a dream
Lost where time cannot reach

How can I be free?
From the curse of this skin
Without a new skin
Maybe when my time is done
I will ascent with a new skin

written after reading Barack Obama: Dreams
from my father