The sky turned on me,
I looked, and saw
Arrows shooting down, piercing me one by one
My soul bent over, crippling me.
I screamed in the silence, but even I could not hear myself.
The deadly arrows had no archer.
Was the Devil to blame?
Did God do it?
Or was I dreaming?
The air screamed, was deceived with lies and evil,
Haunting me in my failure.
I was to blame for the arrows shot down.
I brought them on myself.
For I had failed
And the guilt almost killed me.
No, it was remorse.