• bushra_sayed 6w

    The trial of being special

    Sitting in the midst with a Awry soul
    I am a sinner all Alone .....
    Smell of hand , the blood so foul
    Inside of me a man unknown....
    I want a light that joy me up
    Washing the blood , to gift me boost
    Its a trial of me the ghost...

    Darker and darker my sins grew fast
    I am a sinner all alone....
    Murdered a life and lie not last..
    Inside of me a devil grown ..
    Far away a light passed
    Dressed in white ,on a stick bent
    Pure are the words , i am a saint

    I have a story thats my past
    Robbed a hundread it wasnt far
    I was sinner now saint my caste
    Inside of me a man you are...
    Far away a light passed
    Dressed in pale , on a stick bent
    Pure were the words , he was a saint..

    As he left my trial starts .......

    I stood from the midst , walking alike
    Oh Lord !! Pardon the soul all i asked ...
    I was a sinner , now the saint
    Inside of me a man tasked
    Every saint has his PAST and every sinner has his FUTURE.....
    From his words he meant ...
    Its my trial of being a saint.
    ┬ębushra_sayed