At least as Pure as Coal.

My head was about to explode.
I was just on the edge of falling apart.
I was just drawing to the deepest and darkest sea.
I was only mourning over the death of my soul.
I was not being able to write or even think of writing a single word.

My brain was shut.
My eyes became blind.
My body stopped moving.

I was stunned not by shock, but by shame.
Shame of not being able to do something,
Shame of not being able to help the helpless,
Shame of losing my grasp over my evil thoughts,
Shame of betraying the hope, the truth, the love I got,
Shame of being my cruelest self where I was required to be the softest,
Shame of being the idiot I am today.

I was wondering if only I could have the honest pulling up,
If only everything I had done bad became the most beautiful deeds,
If only I could become the warmest of all,
If only I had my dirty little soul in hand to wash the dirt away,
If only I could close my eyes not for the shame, but for the happiness.

I wondered the wonders were to be mine!
I want to own everything bad happening to me.
I only pray to the almighty to burn me and my soul and make them as pure as gold.
Maybe not as gold, at least as pure as the coal.