i said not to think of myself alone

yet i can't help but wonder;

how does it feel to be liberated of sin?

of shadows that crimes i've committed still pin

upon my breast, that leave me on a thread so thin

over a place where left and right i see no foe nor kin.

 they scream and wander in lament - a discordant din

fills my head and overwrites the cackling of an empty tin

where i once had kept a fish that lost its fin.