Conscious, that is he
And then there is me
Both within, within thee
Failing to clearly see

Confessions are Illustrated
Speech steered
Though, to he, all is feared
For truth is shot, and lashes of facts
And no cover with selfless acts
He produces and introduces thee
The versions of me
The ones insvisible like he

Innocence, that is he
Aware of all the sins

But protected in a shadow
It too has its cost
Because the roof has been lost
Somewhere in a meadow
In tiny wars of life deep into sand
Where it ends to begin again and
The ocean of darkness is dead