O God,
The most beneficent and merciful,
Heal my scars,
Erase all my pain,
And clean my heart,
I may have sinned,
But I now feel it,
As it gets me abyss,
I feel my soul being ruptured from the inside,
I feel the wrongs i've done,
Its so excruciating,
My body seems to paralyze,
The moment I fall on my knees,
Asking for forgiveness.
I have sinned and gone astray,
From the charismatic path that leads to you,
The devil that now feeds on my soul,
It needs to go away,
As I am no more allowing it to prey on my soul.
This evil wipes all the sanity,
Leaving behind only tragedy,
Forgive me O lord,
For I have failed you,
Not once, not twice,
Many times !
I now see a light of hope,
That falls on me,
Awakening the right inside me,
O God make me one of your disciples,
Forgive everybit of what i've done,
So that I live in peace and eternity,
In the life that i've yet to see !

In fields where roses fade as finite flowers should
He watches from his mountain; mindfully morose.
Full of sound and fury; sad and surley.
As if made of wood.
He moveth not as a man might move
rather he gather a stretch of wind
and with it work a while, that he may prove.
He is free and clear, he has not sinned.
Yet lost to in trepidation
and filled for five years or more
he is. The child of every nation,
being but a borrower among the poor.
Carry no comforts nor glee
while whistling workers are whimpering;
their pain, an ease to see.
The game is paved with suffering
and always played so thoughtlessly.

"Impulse is master",
said the learned man.
"It brings disaster
to a pondered plan."

But what about choice?
That's what I've been taught.
Trying speech, no voice
came, instead forethought

echoed through my head:
speak, and you'll be trapped!
I sat, mute as lead;
the man, smiling, clapped.

When the Disciple is ready
The Master will Appear
In silence.
With answers,
Not the cure.
Dont rush so much
He will come
Who ever he is
Where ever you'll be
The Master will appear
When The Disciple is ready.