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.