With all the innocence in heart,the child lied,
Soaking the embrace of the person in tears..
Am I wrong,with all the innocence his voice asked,
As the tears crossed the border of white both wore,
And soaked the womb..
Why is it so hard for me,his voice asked,and quitely that figure sat..
Caressing the hair,as the child snuggled closer..
Standing infront of the mirrors,asking himself,
The figure closed his eyes..
May be the worst sinner was him alone..
May be he should not have existed..
May be his being was wrong..
Looking at the small child in his embrace,he gulped the bile that rose..
Countless words,yet all failed..
Silent stood he..
Facing himself,facing someone he loves..
Asking one question..
Is he wrong?
To have this heart,is it wrong..
May be it's wrong,the silence echos back..
