Dear ghost,
On some nights, i just want to sleep so deep that i lose my reality. On some darkness, I want to love so desperately, it hurts. On some silences, I want to sing so loudly till I sabotage my voice. At every end of the day, I meet the end of my reasons.
My lust, my grudge, my envy, my wishes, are splattered like the stained glass of my temple. It is that which contains my sins. It holds the liberation of my moral. Even as the dogs howl, bark and fight in these areas, the battle inside reigns above all sanity.
I am my worst fear, my raging mistake, my broken doll. I am all that I should not be in those night. Yet I love the night than I ever loved a Humam. It is the very thing that calls my doom. My salvation is in my hands. It is in front of me but still so blurred in my eyes.
Yours even as I fear to be.