My Sculptor

I’ve reached a milestone,

And I look back on the road,

To check if I’ve atoned,

for my sins, and shed the load.

 

Weak of heart, shaken will,

But i will journey on,

Gathering courage, let me fill,

My stagnant heart some brawn.

 

Miles away from where I am,

There is where I want to be.

My deeds, weighed me down they have,

I look at where they’ve broken me.

 

Their hit wasn’t instant,

They took their time,

Vulnerable as an infant,

Then! They struck me for my crime.

 

I Struggled, wriggled with fervor,

When the finality of it I learnt,

I, meek in the face of karma,

Will bear the brunt!

 

As I tie my will to my chest,

I move on, no matter the bruises,

I don’t pick up the debris,

It isn’t what a broken man loses,

 

But what is left with him,

He will make do with it,

Let fate, this bad karma trim,

Like a Sculptor making a perfect fit.

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