A charade confession to inimitable times.
Chagrin at my changes, that maintain not a medley of melody with meaningful memories or musky memoir but distilled drops of hater on self within.

if only my contrite can convey you the tears that drowned my eyes with you in mind, would my soul weigh lesser than a mountain climbing the azure.

I'am unstable, flowing like the split ends of your thick hair.
I'am traitorous, at the last moments i shift my choices.
I'am malign, marking a revenge for every word you berate on me.
I'am lamentable, i drink the smallest of light like the night.
Befriend me not, i cheat.
Love me not, i use.
Trust me not, I break.
hold me not, i hurt.

I avow to the question that arose, i concede to all the illicit voices screaming in the dark, Am bad, i pray my lord Lucifer, instead your light.

But to the purest souls out there, I have a little confession.
Skip my chapters in your life not, because am the best if you're the soul seeking an amity with love and loyalty.

I confessed more for the bad and less for the good, cuz' the previous good deeds of mine said that there's no need to use many words where they speak.